# The Exile of The Lariat/Chapter 14
### CHAPTER XIV
#### THE LAST FIGHT FOR THE CODE

MIRIAM left Fort Sioux on an early morning train. Whether or not she would take Hugh’s attitude as final, he did not even try to guess.
The modeling hand of Fate had not yet finished with Hugh. Nature had made him of fine material, but streaked with dross. She makes many such and commonly the dross consumes the finer metal. But occasionally Fate decides that the pure material shall not be lost, and she sees to it that life anneals such an one as Hugh relentlessly, until, purged of extraneous matter, he faces the world, steel true, indeed, and blade straight. Fine in the best sense of the word a character must be that can emerge from this blast furnace of fate, pliant, yet fine; delicately and intricately wrought, yet enduring; steadfast; fixed in beauty.
The morning after his return, Hugh’s first act was to make peace with Mrs. Ellis.
“You are looking mighty fit for a successful campaign manager!” he exclaimed.
“I ought to. I’ve lost thirty pounds of excess weight and I’ve slept for the past thirty-six hours. Your week’s rest didn’t do you much good, Hughie.”
“Did I embarrass you by going away as I did?” he asked.
“Nice time to be asking me that!” exclaimed Mrs. Ellis. “No, it was the best thing you could have done. If we’d needed you, I’d have sent for you. Johnny Parnell knew where you were. Hughie, what are you going to do about the Old Sioux Tract?”
“Who bought it in?” asked Hugh.
“Nobody knows. Of course, they haven’t got the charter yet. And, of course, they won’t get it now.” Mrs. Ellis rubbed one plump hand slowly with the other, looking thoughtfully out the window at a small boy struggling with a very large mule. When the struggle had passed from her vision, she said, “Don’t you think it’s time you talked to me a little about the Children’s Code? It’s not altogether this eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth manner of politics that makes me ask you. Many things are going to be put over between now and the time you take office. And this is the way it’s going to work. They know you’ll force the Code through. All that they can do in the next two months to extract the teeth from the Code they will do. Hughie, I’m almost in despair over it.”
For the first time since he had known her, Mrs. Ellis’ voice broke weakly. He reached over to take her hands, and to say between set teeth, “I’ll fight for the Code as you fought for the Old Sioux Tract. As you’ve learned, I’m no politician. I can’t seem to scheme things. But whatever other ability I have is yours. Mrs. Ellis, I’d do anything for you. Do you realize that you’re the only person in the world, outside of Red Wolf and Fred, that has never tried to use me?”
“Why, Hughie, how silly! I’m trying to use you right now.”
“I don’t call this using me. You are too frank and honest about your plans. Tell me, what tooth will they try to extract first?”
“I’m not sure. Let me check over in my mind.”
Hugh lighted his pipe, his eyes intent on Mrs. Ellis’ face. She always showed a degree of emotion when the Children’s Code was under discussion that she showed at no other time. Just at this moment there were tears in her eyes.
“My dear Mrs. Ellis,” he said softly, “I wish you’d tell me all about it. You know exactly why I am in the fight. You’ve never told me why the Code means to you what it does. I believe I could put more force in my blows if you took me into your inner confidence. I—I am very fond of you, Mrs. Ellis. And I need to feel that some one has confidence in me, right now.”
The tear slipped down into the dimple that suddenly appeared in Mrs. Ellis’ plump cheek.
“Hughie! You aren’t exactly down and out. Perhaps I’d better remind you that you’ve just been elected governor, and that no man has ever gone into office in this state with as enthusiastic a group of followers.”
“But,” insisted Hugh, “that isn’t telling me what the Children’s Code really means to you.”
“There’s nothing complicated about that,” said Mrs. Ellis, very soberly. “But it hurts me to talk about it. This is a pioneer state. Pioneering works unutterable hardships on women, because they are nature’s specialists. They have to bear the children. But Wyoming is a pioneer state that has access to every resource of civilization. There has been no time in the past thirty years when Wyoming could not have given state aid to any prospective mother, no matter how remotely she might have hid herself in the ranges. But her politicians would not have it so. Hughie, when I was a girl of twelve, I was alone on the ranch with my mother. We were too poor and too ignorant. She died in child birth—me, alone, a little girl, trying to help her, trying to save the baby, to save her. I failed I never can forget it—never get over it—never forgive civilization that it can let such things, such unnecessary things, come to women and children.”
Hugh, deeply moved, stared out the rear window at the immutable line of the canyon. He never had come in contact with the agonizing facts of birth. He had thought very little about them. But suddenly he found himself suffering with that little dimpled girl of twelve. Suddenly he saw women from a profoundly different angle. After a moment, he said, slowly:
“Mrs. Ellis, will they attack first the establishment of the county maternity centers?”
“What makes you ask that?” asked Mrs. Ellis, wiping her face and looking at him with the old battle fire in her eyes.
“Big Elijah asked me last night to use influence to get the new state asylum for his county. And he mentioned that he thought the appropriation for that would be cut because he’d heard there was a bill being worked through giving millions to a medical school and model hospital at Cheyenne. They’d kept it very quiet, but it had reached his ears when they tried to get Mormon backing. Old Charley Whitson is the father of the bill.”
“Exactly!” said Mrs. Ellis through set teeth. “He’ll never forgive me for helping you. So he’s going to ruin the Code for me.”
“No, he’s not going to ruin the Code for you.” Hugh rose slowly. “He and the rest of those buzzards will find something else to feed on. Let’s send for Big Elijah and Mrs. Morgan.”
He went to the telephone, and shortly the Mormon leader appeared. He took off his hat elaborately.
“Good morning, Governor!”
“‘Stewart’ is good enough, Nelson,” said Hugh, smiling.
“As far as I’m concerned, you are the Governor,” replied Elijah. “Howdy, Mrs. Ellis.”
“Howdy, Elijah. How are Mary and the boy?”
“Well, young ’Lige hasn’t quite got on his feet, yet. His heart is bad after the diphtheria. Doc says he’ll outgrow it. Worries me. Doc Blackston is in Salt Lake this winter, and I’d like to have the boy within easy reach of a doctor. To say nothing of Mary. We hope there’ll be a baby at our home by Christmas. Do you think I can get her to go into Salt Lake or come up to Cheyenne, where she can get care? No! She won’t leave home.”
Mrs. Ellis gave Hugh a quick look. He was scowling in a puzzled way.
“That doesn’t exactly fit in with the psychology of what you were telling me, Mrs. Ellis,” he said.
“Yes, it does,” she contradicted. “Nine women out of ten have a horror of being away from their homes and their husbands at such a time. Hence the Code idea of county centers, from which the doctors and nurses can go to the mothers.”
Elijah looked up with interest. “Is that in the Code?”
“Heavens, Elijah! You Mormons helped to kill my bill. Don’t tell me you didn’t even read it.”
“No, I didn’t,” admitted the Mormon, belligerently. “A lot of newfangled notions to eat up the public funds. That’s what I thought it was. And I’m not sure now that it ain’t.”
“And yet,” said Mrs. Ellis, “if the Code had been in force this fall, you’d have had a county hospital to have rushed your boy to and not have had to trust to the bravery and persistence of a man you didn’t trust.”
“I trust him now,” grunted Elijah. “Well, what is the idea of this here Children’s Code?”
“I won’t go into but the one section of it now,” said Mrs. Ellis. And she explained to him rapidly that portion of the Code which was based on the thrifty and efficient plan of the German Red Cross, in times of peace.
Elijah was much impressed. “Never heard of such an idea in all my life,” he said. “Probably wouldn’t cost as much as that big affair they’re planning to put over in Cheyenne.”
Mrs. Ellis was exasperated. “Will you tell me,” she demanded, “how a supposedly intelligent man could close his ears to a thing that’s been discussed as long and as violently as this Code has?”
“It didn’t bite close enough home, till now,” answered Elijah, grinning complacently. He winked at Hugh. “The Governor never read it either, I’ll bet. He’s no better than a bachelor.”
“I didn’t read it till Mrs. Ellis made me,” confessed Hugh.
“Dead bones being so much more important than live babies,” snorted Mrs. Ellis. “Well, Elijah, what are you going to do about it?”
“You mean about Mary?”
“Yes, Mary, indirectly. Directly, the Code” Mrs. Ellis was sitting bolt upright now. “You must not think”—she was beginning, when Mrs. Morgan came in. She nodded to the others, then offered Hugh her hand with an air of deference no one before had seen her wear.
“We are very proud of you, Hughie,” she said.
“Thank you, Mrs. Morgan,” replied her son-in-law.
“I’m honestly sorry about the Sioux Tract.” Mrs. Morgan glanced curiously at Elijah. “I suppose that is what you want to talk about.”
“Not at the moment,” answered Hugh. “I only want to say that they’ll never build the dam at Thumb Butte if I have to dynamite every pound of concrete that’s poured in. Just now we are going to lay plans about the Children’s Code.”
He asked Elijah to repeat his last night’s statement, to which Mrs. Morgan listened in her eager way.
“Well,” she said, “it’s gone further than I thought it had. What we’ve got to do is to buy them off.”
“Buy them!” laughed Elijah. “Woman, you are too ambitious! What would you buy them with? Stone birds?”
Every one laughed with the Mormon. But Mrs. Morgan insisted when quiet was restored, “I mean what I say. There must be something in the control of the Federation of Women’s Clubs that the Whitson gang could use. I wonder what it is.”
“The Whitson gang wants loot, nothing else,” exclaimed Elijah.
“Don’t be too sure of that,” said Mrs. Ellis. “They all are well-to-do men. Their price may not be in money.”
“I suppose, as a matter of fact, each man’s price is different from every other’s,” suggested Hugh. “Which makes Mrs. Morgan’s proposition impossible.”
“Not at all,” contradicted Mrs. Ellis. “For the second time in history I’m about to agree unequivocally with Mrs. Morgan. There probably is one single thing on which all their hearts are set. We’ve got to find out what that is.”
“I can name one thing right now,” said Elijah. “Offer to put Hugh Stewart out of state politics and they’d give you the Children’s Code.”
Every one laughed again.
“Jokes aside,” said Mrs. Ellis suddenly. “Even if we wanted to do such an absurd thing, I doubt if we could do it. The ranchers of this state want him. The young men of education want him and the women want him. He belongs to Wyoming now and he can’t be shoved in and out of politics like a wax figure”
Hugh moved impatiently. “Let’s get down to business about this matter,” he suggested And forthwith the impromptu committee plunged into possible plans for trading with the enemy. Hugh, as he had said, was useless in the formation of political intrigues, so little was expected from him in the conference. But for once Mrs. Ellis and Mrs. Morgan had nothing feasible to suggest. After a fruitless hour, during which The Lariat was bombarded by impatient politicians and admirers, Elijah suggested that a recess be taken.
“If I’ve got to help on the Children’s Code, which will take an awful lot of explaining down my way, you’ve got to let me get out and talk and think by myself. To tell the truth, I’m not used to conferring with women around.”
Mrs. Ellis nodded and Elijah, like a boy freed from school, bolted. Johnny Parnell entered as the big Mormon went out, and demanded to know the purport of the conclave.
Hugh explained. Johnny listened, smoking thoughtfully, his spurred boots on the stove.
“Sheep for cows,” he said finally. “Send for Jessie.”
The other three stared at him and Johnny, his great voice carefully casual, his manner as indifferent as if he had not prayed for this moment for months, took his pipe from his mouth and said, “That whole Whitson gang has been working for three years buying in sheep lands down on the Colorado border east of the Roaring Chief. The Lord knows even I’ll admit a cow couldn’t live in the whole of the territory. Get the cowmen to move the sheep line ten miles nearer the river and they’ll give in on the Cheyenne Hospital.”
“Johnny Parnell, you know as well as I do,” snapped Mrs. Ellis, “that a cowman would shoot you if you’d make such a suggestion.”
“Sure he would,” boomed Johnny. “That’s why I said, send for Jessie. Let me give you folks a little bit of news. Mrs. Morgan, what’s Jessie been doing during this campaign?”
“She’s been acting as your secretary and assistant up there at the ranch. And I’ve noticed that she’s very popular with the cowmen.”
“Popular!” snorted Johnny. “Let me tell you that Jessie Morgan is the whole works in the association. Why, she has no real idea herself of the influence she has. She’s got her mother’s gift for politics with, excuse me, Mrs. Morgan, a kind of natural frankness and friendliness that her mother hasn’t. More than that, she’s a real Wyoming girl. She knows horses, she knows cattle. She’s learned the problems the fellows that raise steers have, and she’s interested, heart and soul, in them. And on top of it all, there ain’t a man that’s met her up there that isn’t more than half in love with her. Tell Jessie to get that concession from the cowmen and she’ll get it.”
The two women looked at Hugh. He was spared giving an immediate answer, for Johnny gave a sudden whoop.
“There she goes now, on Magpie, back to the ranch!” He rushed to the door and roared, “Jessie! Jessie!” in tones that shook the walls of The Lariat.
Jessie turned her horse, dismounted and came slowly into the book shop. She greeted them all with an inclusive nod.
“Jessie,” exclaimed Johnny, “will you undertake to get our association to run the sheep dead-line ten miles nearer Roaring Chief, below Whitewater, in return for the Whitson gang giving up the Cheyenne Hospital and School? Mrs. Ellis says that’s hurting her Children’s Code.”
Jessie knocked the snow from her coat with her heavy gauntlets and looked from Johnny to Hugh.
“I’ll do nothing active in this campaign unless Hughie asks me to,” she said, in her deliberate way.
Mrs. Morgan started to speak. Mrs. Ellis laid her hand for an instant across her assistant’s lips, giving her at the same time a look that temporarily paralyzed Mrs. Morgan’s faculties for interference. Johnny rolled a cigarette.
Hugh looked from Jessie to the walls of The Lariat, at the familiar bookbindings, at the Indian curios, at Bookie’s old silver spurs, carefully preserved on the top shelf. The Lariat! Here the loneliest and the sweetest hours of his life had been spent.
After a moment he turned to look again at Jessie. She was watching the ice cakes on the river. Frankness and friendliness, Johnny had said. Yes, they were there, obvious even to his wearied gaze. But the old resentment welled up. There had been no friendliness in the days when she had laughed at him, been ashamed of him and his work. The old days! How long ago they seemed! And, after all, what a tiny part of his little span of life.
And yet he could not bear the idea of taking help from Jessie. Then, for the first time, he asked himself honestly, why. And he answered himself honestly. Only half of his attitude was due to the old resentment. The other half was based on a furtive shame. How could he take this sort of assistance from his wife when there had been Miriam? Suddenly he shook himself with impatience. Jessie was generous. Couldn’t he at least be not ungenerous? His face was pale with the stress of the struggle when he looked at his wife and said in a low voice:
“It will be very kind of you to help us, Jessie.”
Jessie turned to Mrs. Ellis. “You’ll have to give me more definite information,” she said.
Hugh picked up his cap and mackinaw. “If you can go on without me, I’ll go out and look up Judge Proctor.”
“The Judge went up to Cheyenne yesterday,” said Jessie.
“There’ll be some one in his office I can talk to,” insisted Hugh. He nodded and went out.
But there was no one in Judge Proctor’s office who could or perhaps would give him any information about the will. The whole office was cloaked in silence and mystery. Nor was Hugh given much time to pursue his investigations. He was carried off that noon to a dinner given by the cattlemen and miners, which lasted most of the afternoon. It was not merely a congratulatory affair. Hugh’s election, meaning in most ways so little to him, was a matter of great and growing portent to these men who made their living literally from the soil of Wyoming.
It was the first time that a man of Hugh’s mental type had been placed in high office in the state. Only half convinced as to his fitness at first, they had grown at last to feel a fanatical sort of faith in him. A faith that was fed not a little by the fact that in spite of his simplicity and frankness, the actual workings of his mind were a mystery to them. They felt that because of his education and his peculiar profession and because of his avowed motive for coming into politics that he was a man above the common run of men.
The men at this dinner loved Wyoming. They sincerely desired her best welfare. And they felt that a great moment had arrived for the state; that with Hugh’s election they had inaugurated a new era. An era of something higher, nobler, more far-seeing than they had known before. And the important aspect of this dinner for Hugh was that for the first time he realized this fact. The realization came as he listened to the closing words of a speech by the toastmaster.
“Some day,” he said, “we are going to educate our children so they’ll be fit for public service. Not only that! We’ll educate them so that they’ll feel obligated to give some kind of public service during their lives, it doesn’t matter how lowly or how high that service is. And so that they’ll give that service without desiring or demanding a personal reward. A year ago I’d have said that kind of an education and that kind of a result was impossible. I didn’t know the Hon. Hugh Stewart then!
“Yes, I know you all might say he was out frankly for a mighty concrete reward. The Old Sioux Tract! Gentlemen, he wanted that tract for the state of Wyoming. He had not a personal desire in connection with it. Instead, he sacrificed every personal desire he possessed to make the fight to save that strange graveyard to future generations.
“I offer you, gentlemen, the name of our next governor. The new kind of American. The American who gives political service at the sacrifice of self.”
Hugh was too much moved by this speech and by the tumultuous applause that followed to reply. But his emotion was not that of gratified vanity. He was twisted by a deep-seated sense of shame.
It was this sense of being ungenerous that caused him to set his jaw and promise himself that even his anger and anxiety over the fate of the Sioux Tract should not prevent his doing his utmost for Mrs. Ellis and the Children’s Code.