From a distance he saw that the company corral was well filled with cattle; and when he saw Lem Caldwell talking with some other men in front of the hotel, he knew the cattle in the corral bore Caldwell's brand.
He waved a hand to Caldwell and the others as he rode past the hotel; but he kept on until he reached the station, where he dismounted, hitched Red King to a rail and crossed the railroad track.
A frame building, small, with a flat shedlike roof, stood near the corral fence--between the tracks and the big gates--and Lawler entered the open door, to find a portly, bald-headed man sitting at a rough, flat-top desk.

The man was busy with a pencil and a pad of papers when Lawler entered, and he continued to labor with them, not seeming to notice his visitor.
Lawler halted just inside the door, to await the man's leisure.

And then he saw Gary Warden lounging in a chair in a far corner.

Warden did not appear to see Lawler, either; he was facing the back of the chair, straddling it, his elbows crossed on the back, his chin resting on his arms, his gaze on the rough board floor.
Lawler noted, his lips straightening a little, that in the movements of the man at the desk was a deliberation that was almost extravagant.

The man was writing, and the pencil in his hand seemed to lag.