John. Perhaps this was more clever psychology on Scanlon's part; for with the pressure lifted, Henry's resolution relaxed a bit. He was in one of his regretting moods when Charlie Clayton came in about the McKenzie's Tongue project.
Now McKenzie's Tongue was a strip of land some seventeen hundred acres in extent from which Boland General had stripped the timber, and there was a bill before the state legislature to acquire this land for sixty-two thousand dollars and locate the new state prison upon it. "The bill will be up for final passage in the house sometime next week," reminded Clayton. "It will go through all right of course; but since it's of special benefit to our end of the state, it will look better to have a full delegation voting from Socatullo County. Better arrange to be there, Henry."
"Count on me," smiled Harrington; "but be sure and let me know when it's coming up. I've got a good deal on my mind right now."
Clayton looked as if he understood. "All right; so long."
It did Henry good to have Clayton come in like this and consult him quite in the old way. It showed that there was to be no permanent or wide-front break in his relations with the official family of Boland General. Yet he was not long permitted to enjoy entirely comfortable reflections. Senator Murphy was announced.
"What can she want?" speculated Henry.
There were several women in the state legislature this term, earnest, intelligent and, some of them, astonishingly astute. None took their duties any more seriously than Sarah Murphy. She was self-assertive to a degree. She was almost offensively honest, exceed-
