A DISAPPOINTMENT
DURING the second winter Ruth left the ranch only twice, except for runs down to Wagon Wheel. Late in January she went to Cheyenne with her boy to make another appeal to the governor. He was full of genuine homely kindness to her, and renewed at once his allegiance to Rowan, junior. With the large hospitality of the West, he urged her to spend the next few months as their guest, to postpone her return at least until the snow was out of the hills. But in the matter of a parole he stood firm against the entreaties of his wife, the touching wistfulness of her friend, and the tug of desire at his own big heart.
Her other visit was in April to the penitentiary. McCoy was away as a trusty in charge of a road-building gang near Casper. But it was not her husband that Ruth had come to see. She wanted to make a plea to the one man who could help her. She carried an order from Governor McDowell permitting her to see him.
The hour she had chosen was inauspicious. Falkner, sullen and dogged, was brought in irons to the office of the warden. His face was badly swollen and cut. He pretended not to recognize Ruth, but stood, heavy and lowering, his sunken eyes set defiantly straight before him.
“He’s been in solitary for a week,” explained the warden. “Makes us more trouble than any two men here. This time he hit a guard over the head with a shovel.”
The prisoner had the baited look of a hunted wild animal.
“I’m so sorry,” breathed Ruth.
It was plain to her at a glance that he was much more of a wild beast than he had been when she last saw him.
“You needn’t be sorry for him. He brings it all on himself.” The warden turned curtly to Falkner. “This lady wants to talk to you. See you behave yourself.”
But when she was alone with this battered hulk her carefully prepared arguments all fell away from her. She felt instinctively that they would have no weight with him. She hesitated, uncertain how to proceed. The best she could do was to repeat herself.