gradual gathering up of all the loose ends of administration which had
become badly tangled through the inefficiency of the former incumbent.
And now the legislature was in session.

Lawler had not been able to seize time to visit the Wolf River section.
Work, work--and more work had confronted him from the moment he had
taken the oath of office on the capitol steps until this minute, when
he sat at his desk looking out of a window at the bleak, artificial
landscape.

There had been times when he had longed for a glance at the Wolf River
section; and there had been many more times when he had sat where he was
sitting now, thinking of Ruth Hamlin.

Something lacked--he was not satisfied. In the old days--when he had
visited the capital and had entered the state building to sense
immediately the majesty of it and to feel the atmosphere of solemn
dignity that reigned within--he had felt that any man must experience
the ultimate thrill--the tingling realization that he stood in a spot
hallowed by the traditions of the republic.

The thought of serving the people of a great state had thrilled him
mightily in the old days. It still thrilled him, but it brought with it
a longing for Ruth to share it with him.

Thoughts of Ruth this morning brought Gary Warden into his mind. And he
frowned as a man frowns who watches a pleasant scene turn into tragedy.

Only his collapse as he faced Warden that day in the latter's office had
prevented him killing the man. He had left the Dickman cabin lusting for