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 becoming apparent to him that they couldn't.

"We were east of the Pecos and some ways north of the Red River," Call said.

"Way north of the Red," Augustus said.

"We were several days getting down to the Red." The Governor, whose spectacles had been unaccountably mislaid, had to squint to make out many details; but when he did squint he discovered what he already suspected, which was that there was no way of deducing where Inish Scull might be.

"Why, there's nothing there, not even a creek," the Governor said. "Inish has lost himself, and over a goddamn horse." "Well, it was his warhorse, Governor," Gus remarked. "He held that horse in high regard." "Yes, and what about his duty to the state of Texas?" Governor Pease said. "Did he hold that in high regard, sir?" Call and Gus had no idea what to say.

They had never met a governor before. Call thought they ought to talk as little as possible, but Augustus, as usual, found it hard to keep quiet.

"He made us both captains, before he went," he said. "I guess he thought we could get the boys home safe, and we done it, and recovered those captives too." "Yes, though I doubt the woman will recover --they rarely do," the Governor said. "I'll endorse your promotions--the state can use a pair of competent young captains like yourselves. What stumps me is Inish. How did he expect to catch up with Kicking Wolf on foot when he had already failed to catch him horseback?" The Governor went to the window and looked out.

Far to the west huge white thunderheads floated like warships across a blue sky.

"Inish Scull is a rich man," he said.

"He's always been a rich man. He could buy and sell me ten times over, and I'm no pauper.

He don't need the job. He was only rangering because it interested him, and now it's stopped interesting him, I guess.

"So away he went," he added, turning back to the young men. "Away he went. He might be off to California to prospect for gold, for all we know. Meanwhile we've still got several thousand hostile Indians to contend with, and a whole nation to the south that don't like us one bit. It's a poor performance, I say." "At least he was with Famous Shoes," Gus pointed out. "I expect Famous Shoes will guide him home." Governor Pease was staring out the window at the Scull mansion, its strange turrets just visible above the trees along Shoal Creek.

"I'm the governor, but the rich Yankee son-of-a-bitch has never answered to me, that I recall," the Governor said. "Every time I call him in for a report, that Yankee nose of his goes up--but that ain't the worst of it. The worst is that he's left us Inez. I expect we can hold our own with the Comanches and I believe we can whip back the Mexicans, but the heavens are going to ring when Inez Scull finds out that her husband didn't care to come home." Neither Call nor Augustus knew what to say about that.

"She's richer than Inish, you know," Governor Pease said. "They're quite a couple, the Sculls. A Yankee snob and a Southern slut. They're hell to manage, both of them." The Governor stared glumly out the window for a while. The fact that the two young rangers were still in his office seemed to slip his mind. Below him he could see Bingham sitting in the buggy, waiting to take someone somewhere; but it was not until his reverie ended and he saw the two dusty young rangers standing by his desk that he realized Bingham was waiting for them.

"Why, gentlemen, excuse me--y'll think I'm daft," Governor Pease said. "Inish Scull used good judgment in making you captains, and I'll second it. You've both got a bright future, if you can keep your hair." He had given the young rangers a careful looking over. They were polite in deportment, unlike their commander, the wild millionaire soldier who had just marched off into the wilderness for reasons of his own. Governor Pease was suddenly moved to emotion, at the sight of such sturdy, upright young fellows.

"You're the future of Texas, fine young men like yourselves," he said. "Why, either of you could wind up governor, before you're done, if you apply yourselves diligently and keep to the straight and narrow." He patted them both on the shoulder and gave them a warm handshake before sending them away-- Augustus claimed the man had even had tears in his eyes.

"I didn't see any tears," Call said, when they were in the buggy again, heading back down the hill toward the ranger corrals. "Why would he cry if he likes us so much?" "I don't know and it don't matter --we're captains now, Woodrow," Augustus said. "You heard the Governor. He said we're the future of Texas." "I heard him," Call said. "I just don't know what he meant." "Why, it means we're fine fellows," Augustus said.

"How would he know that?" Call asked. "He's never even seen us before today." "Now, Woodrow--don't be contrary," Gus said. "He's the governor, and a governor can figure things out quicker than other folks. If he says we're the future of Texas, then I expect it's so." "I ain't being contrary," Call said. "But I still don't know what he meant."

When Slipping Weasel came racing into camp with the news that Kicking Wolf had stolen the Buffalo Horse, there was an uproar at what a big joke it was on the Texans. Old Slow Tree was still there, talking to anyone who would listen about how the time for war with the Texans was over, how it was time for the People to grow corn, how the buffalo would soon disappear, so that the People would starve if they did not soon learn the ways of the whites and plant and reap.