Produced by Annie R. McGuire [Illustration: HARPER'S ROUND TABLE] Copyright, 1896, by HARPER & BROTHERS. All Rights Reserved. * * * * * PUBLISHED WEEKLY. NEW YORK, TUESDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1896. FIVE CENTS A COPY. VOL. XVII.--NO. 887. TWO DOLLARS A YEAR. * * * * * [Illustration] TEXAS. BY A. G. CANFIELD. "One misty, moisty morning" of April, '36, there was quite a commotion in the office of the _Weekly Telegraph_, enterprising pioneer of Texas journalism, printed in English and Spanish, and published in the little town of Harrisburg, east of the Brazos River. The Alamo,[1] citadel and tomb of heroes, had fallen, and all the western part of the young republic was held by the Mexicans. Houston's hundreds were falling back towards the east; Santa Anna's thousands were in close pursuit. [1] For the story of the battle of the Alamo see "An American Thermopylæ," in No. 876. The Texans now occupied Harrisburg, and a good many of them occupied the _Telegraph_ office. These were carrying on an animated and eager discussion, while the object of their eloquence, a slim youngster of an uncommonly dark and swarthy countenance, stood listening silently. "I tell you," cried one, "you're risking your life by staying here. Santa Anna's just as likely as not to have you taken out and shot. Remember Goliad!" "And if they don't shoot you," said another, "they'll clap you in irons and shut you up in a Mexican jail. For my part, I'd rather take the bullet; it's quickest over." "And you must remember," remonstrated a third, "that your paper's always been down on the Mexicans. _They're_ safe to remember it, and as the editor has got clear off, they'll make you pay for yourself and him too." "All the same," said John Sibley, steadily, "I'll have to stay until Mr. Bolden sends for me. He left me in charge here, but promised to get me away before the Mexicans come." "Huh! Think Editor Bolden's going to trouble himself to get you out of the hole? You needn't if you do. He's saved his own skin, and that's all he cares about. The Greasers might knock everything in the printing-office into pi before I'd stay here to please him." "Come, John," said one, somewhat older than the rest, "let me persuade you out of this foolhardy project. Your young life ought not to be thrown away in mere bravado." "It's not bravado, Captain Hays," protested the boy. "It's my plain duty. I promised my employer I would stay and look after his property. He trusted me, and I mustn't disappoint him. So please don't ask me to go with you, for I can't." "What can a boy like you do to protect the property?" "I can do just what anybody else would do," said John, smiling; "I can do my best."