THE MAJESTY OF PEACE

As upon another day that was vivid in his memory, Governor Lawler sat at his desk in his office in the capitol building.  A big, keen-eyed man of imposing appearance was sitting at a little distance from Lawler, watching him.  The big man was talking, but the governor seemed to be looking past him—­at the bare trees that dotted the spacious grounds around the building.  His gaze seemed to follow the low stone fence with its massive posts that seemed to hint of the majesty of the government Lawler served; it appeared that he was studying the bleak landscape, and that he was not interested in what the big man was saying.

But Lawler was not interested in the landscape.  For many minutes, while listening to the big man—­and answering him occasionally—­he had been watching for a trim little figure that he knew would presently appear on one of the white walks leading to the great, wide steps that led to the entrance to the building.  For he had heard the long-drawn plaint of a locomotive whistle some minutes before; he had seen the train itself come gliding over the mammoth plains that stretched eastward from the capitol; and he knew that Ruth would be on the train.

“The proposed bill is iniquitous,” said the big man.  “It is more than that, Governor Lawler; it is discrimination without justification.  We really have made unusual efforts to provide cars for the shipment of cattle.  The bill you propose will conflict directly with the regulations of Federal Interstate Commerce.  It will be unconstitutional.”

“We’ll risk it,” smiled Lawler.  “The attorney-general is certain of the constitutionality of the bill.”

“We’ll never obey its provisions!” declared the big man, with some warmth.

Lawler looked at the other with a level gaze.  “This is a cattle-raising state,” he said.  “The interests of the state’s citizens are sacred to me.  I intend to safeguard them.  You run your railroad and I will run the state.  Previous railroad commissioners have permitted the railroad companies to do largely as they pleased.  We are going to have some regulation—­regulation that will regulate.

“The proposed bill may seem drastic to you,” he added as he leaned forward the better to look out of the window he had looked out of before—­to see the trim little figure he had expected coming up one of the white walks; “but if you fight it, we shall introduce others.  The people of this state are pretty well worked up, and are demanding legislation that will curb the power of the railroads—­that will make impossible a situation such as existed under the regime of my predecessor.  What would you say to a law that would compel you to construct grade crossings at every street intersection along the right-of-way in every city and town in the state through which your railroad passes?”

The big man’s color fled; he stared at Lawler.

“Also,” went on Lawler; “there is an insistent demand for electrification of railroads, especially from city governments.  Then, too, there is some agitation regarding rates—­both freight and passenger.  But I want to be fair—­to go at these improvements gradually.  Still, if your company insists on fighting the bill which is now pending—­” He paused and looked at the big man.