He strode across the paved floor of the train shed, through a wide iron gate and into a barber-shop that adjoined the waiting-room.
There he gave himself to the care of a barber who addressed him as Mr.
Lawler in a voice of respect.
"I've shaved you before, Mr.Lawler," said the man.

"I think it was when you was down here last year, to the convention.

I heard the speech you made that time, nominating York Falkner for governor.

Too bad you didn't run yourself.

You'd have made it, saving the state from the tree-toad which is hanging to it now." During his short stay at the Circle L the night before, Lawler had changed from his cowboy rigging to a black suit of civilian cut, with tight trousers that were stuffed into the tops of soft boots of dull leather.