"That will be in January," said Lawler. "Half the cattle in the state will starve before that time."
The governor flushed. "That's the best we can do, Lawler."
"Why not call a special session, Governor?"
Haughton laughed. "Do you keep yourself informed, Lawler?" he said, a suspicion of mockery in his voice. "If you do, you will remember that the legislature has just adjourned, after acting upon some important matters."
"This matter is important enough to demand another session immediately!" declared Lawler.
The governor cleared his throat and gazed steadily at Lawler, his eyes gleaming with a vindictive light that he tried to make judicial.
"As a matter of fact, Lawler, this question of shipping cattle is not as important as you might think—to the state at large, that is. If you take all the packing out of the case you will find at the bottom that it is merely a disagreement between cattle owners and cattle buyers. It seems to me that it is not a matter for state interference. As I understand, the cattle buyers have offered a certain price. The owners ask another; and the owners want the state to force the buyers to pay their price. I can't see that the state has any business to meddle with the affair at all. The state can't become a clearing-house for the cattle industry!"
"We are not asking the state to act in that capacity, Haughton. We want the state to force the railroad company to provide cars."
"It can't be done, Lawler! There is no provision in the law under which we can force the railroad company to provide cars."
Lawler laughed mirthlessly and got to his feet, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at the governor. For a time there was silence in the big room, during which the governor changed color several times, and drooped his eyes under Lawler's grimly humorous gaze. Then Lawler spoke: