His strength seemed to be prodigious, for despite her desperate resistance he lifted her from the floor, crushed her to him and started for the stairs.  She screamed, begging the men in the room to help her.  But through the haze she saw grinning faces turned to hers; heard loud laughter and coarse oaths.  And then came oblivion.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

THE GOVERNOR’S GUNS

From his desk in the big, quiet room in the capitol building Lawler could look out upon a wide sweep of orderly landscape.  There were trees—­now stripped of their foliage—­in serried array around the spacious grounds that surrounded the building; bushes arranged in attractive clusters; a low stone fence with massive posts that rose in simple dignity above white cement walks that curved gracefully toward the streets.

For nearly two months the huge building—­representing the seat of government of a mighty state—­had been Lawler’s throne.  And he had ruled with a democratic spirit and with a simple directness, that had indicated earnestness and strength.  There had been a mass of detail which had required close attention; many conferences with the prominent men of his party—­in which the prominent men had been made to understand that Lawler intended to be governor in fact as well as in name; and a 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 Warden’s life.  The passion that had surged through his veins during the long ride to Warden’s office had been the only force that could have kept him going.  It had burned within him like a raging fire, and it had upheld his failing strength until he had sunk beside the desk with his passion unsatisfied.