mood don't matter," Call said.
"We're captains now, and we're due at the Governor's." "Captaining's the wrong business for me, I expect," Augustus said. "I think I'll resign right now." "What?" Call said. "You've been talking about being a captain for years. Why would you resign now?" Without a ^w Augustus corked the whiskey bottle, retrieved his hat, and went outside.
"I may resign and I may not," he said.
The buggy he had seen Clara riding in was parked by the Forsythe store, with no one in it, and the Governor's buggy, with Bingham in it, stood beside it.
"Dern, Bingham, you're nearly as wide as this buggy," Augustus observed. "The man who rides behind you won't have much of a view." "No sir," Bingham said. "Mostly get a view of me." "I'm surprised you'd drink like that before you say hello to Clara," Call said.
"Why would I say hello to her?" Gus asked. "I saw her taking a buggy ride with that dumb horse trader." "No she wasn't, that was her uncle," Call told him. "Her ma's poorly and he's come for a visit." Augustus, who had just climbed in the buggy, was so startled he nearly fell out. It had not occurred to him that Clara could be with a relative, when he saw her come down the hill.
"Oh Lord--y mean she's in the store?" he asked.
"Why, yes, I suppose so," Call said.
"Were you so drunk you got on your horse backward? That's what the boys are saying." Augustus ignored the inquiry.
"Hold this buggy, Binghamffwas he demanded.
"I've got to pay a short visit--then I'll report to the Governor until he's sick of listening." "But the Governor's waiting," Call protested.
"It don't take long to kiss a girl," Gus said, jumping out of the buggy and running into the store.
Clara had her back to him when he rushed in-- he had her in his arms before she even got a good look at him. But the color came up in her cheeks and the happy light into her eyes.
"Why, it's my ranger," she said, and gave him the kiss he had been yearning for.
"Yep, I'm a captain now, Clara-- Woodrow's one too. We're off to see the Governor on urgent business." "The Governor? My goodness," Clara said.
"Yes, and I'll have to hurry or Bingham might lose his job," Gus said. "The Governor expects us to report." Clara didn't try to stop him but she followed him out the door and watched him as he vaulted into the Governor's buggy and straightened his hat.
Clara felt an old confusion, the feelings that had so often filled her when Gus came: relief that he was safe, excitement when he kissed her, joy that he still rushed in to see her first, disappointment that he left before she could even take a good look at him.
Just a kiss and then he's gone--t's my ranger, she thought. Just a kiss and then he's gone.
Governor e. m. Pease, whose campaign slogan had been "Pease and Prosperity," did not like surprises. With surprises came disorder, and he hated disorder. His firm belief was that good administration, like human happiness itself, depended on planning that was careful, intelligent, and firm. Of course, as an experienced man, he had long since been forced to recognize that life, like the state of Texas, was never going to be perfectly manageable, despite the most thorough planning. People dropped dead, fires broke out, storms flooded the land, foolish marriages were made, and the criminal element would never be entirely subdued or eliminated. Nonetheless the duty of honest men and competent state officials was to plan and plan seriously, so as to keep the element of surprise to a workable minimum.
Now two dusty young rangers stood in his office with news that he found to be nearly incredible: Inish Scull, the brilliant hero of the Mexican War, the most experienced military man in the state, had left his command and walked away on foot, merely to reclaim a stolen horse.
The Governor had a map of the western regions spread out on his desk and was attempting to get the young rangers to pinpoint the area where Captain Scull had left the troop, but it was fast
"We're captains now, and we're due at the Governor's." "Captaining's the wrong business for me, I expect," Augustus said. "I think I'll resign right now." "What?" Call said. "You've been talking about being a captain for years. Why would you resign now?" Without a ^w Augustus corked the whiskey bottle, retrieved his hat, and went outside.
"I may resign and I may not," he said.
The buggy he had seen Clara riding in was parked by the Forsythe store, with no one in it, and the Governor's buggy, with Bingham in it, stood beside it.
"Dern, Bingham, you're nearly as wide as this buggy," Augustus observed. "The man who rides behind you won't have much of a view." "No sir," Bingham said. "Mostly get a view of me." "I'm surprised you'd drink like that before you say hello to Clara," Call said.
"Why would I say hello to her?" Gus asked. "I saw her taking a buggy ride with that dumb horse trader." "No she wasn't, that was her uncle," Call told him. "Her ma's poorly and he's come for a visit." Augustus, who had just climbed in the buggy, was so startled he nearly fell out. It had not occurred to him that Clara could be with a relative, when he saw her come down the hill.
"Oh Lord--y mean she's in the store?" he asked.
"Why, yes, I suppose so," Call said.
"Were you so drunk you got on your horse backward? That's what the boys are saying." Augustus ignored the inquiry.
"Hold this buggy, Binghamffwas he demanded.
"I've got to pay a short visit--then I'll report to the Governor until he's sick of listening." "But the Governor's waiting," Call protested.
"It don't take long to kiss a girl," Gus said, jumping out of the buggy and running into the store.
Clara had her back to him when he rushed in-- he had her in his arms before she even got a good look at him. But the color came up in her cheeks and the happy light into her eyes.
"Why, it's my ranger," she said, and gave him the kiss he had been yearning for.
"Yep, I'm a captain now, Clara-- Woodrow's one too. We're off to see the Governor on urgent business." "The Governor? My goodness," Clara said.
"Yes, and I'll have to hurry or Bingham might lose his job," Gus said. "The Governor expects us to report." Clara didn't try to stop him but she followed him out the door and watched him as he vaulted into the Governor's buggy and straightened his hat.
Clara felt an old confusion, the feelings that had so often filled her when Gus came: relief that he was safe, excitement when he kissed her, joy that he still rushed in to see her first, disappointment that he left before she could even take a good look at him.
Just a kiss and then he's gone--t's my ranger, she thought. Just a kiss and then he's gone.
Governor e. m. Pease, whose campaign slogan had been "Pease and Prosperity," did not like surprises. With surprises came disorder, and he hated disorder. His firm belief was that good administration, like human happiness itself, depended on planning that was careful, intelligent, and firm. Of course, as an experienced man, he had long since been forced to recognize that life, like the state of Texas, was never going to be perfectly manageable, despite the most thorough planning. People dropped dead, fires broke out, storms flooded the land, foolish marriages were made, and the criminal element would never be entirely subdued or eliminated. Nonetheless the duty of honest men and competent state officials was to plan and plan seriously, so as to keep the element of surprise to a workable minimum.
Now two dusty young rangers stood in his office with news that he found to be nearly incredible: Inish Scull, the brilliant hero of the Mexican War, the most experienced military man in the state, had left his command and walked away on foot, merely to reclaim a stolen horse.
The Governor had a map of the western regions spread out on his desk and was attempting to get the young rangers to pinpoint the area where Captain Scull had left the troop, but it was fast
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