Honest, earnest men have wrought for generations striving to disentangle the shameful coil that certain years of fraud and infamy have wound. Look at the files and see the countless endorsements of those in authority: "Transfer doubtful--locked up." "Certificate a forgery--locked up." "Signature a forgery." "Patent refused--duplicate patented elsewhere." "Field notes forged." "Certificates stolen from office"--and so on ad infinitum. The record books, spread upon long tables, in the big room upstairs, are open to the examination of all. Open them, and you will find the dark and greasy finger prints of half a century's handling. The quick hand of the land grabber has fluttered the leaves a million times; the damp clutch of the perturbed tiller of the soil has left traces of his calling on the ragged leaves. Interest centres in the file room. This is a large room, built as a vault, fireproof, and entered by but a single door. There is "No Admission" on the portal; and the precious files are handed out by a clerk in charge only on presentation of an order signed by the Commissioner or chief clerk. In years past too much laxity prevailed in its management, and the files were handled by all comers, simply on their request, and returned at their will, or not at all. In those days most of the mischief was done. In the file room, there are about ---- files, each in a paper wrapper, and comprising the title papers of a particular tract of land. You ask the clerk in charge for the papers relating to any survey in Texas. They are arranged simply in districts and numbers. He disappears from the door, you hear the sliding of a tin box, the lid snaps, and the file is in your hand. Go up there some day and call for Bexar Scrip No. 2692. The file clerk stares at you for a second, says shortly: "Out of file." It has been missing twenty years. The history of that file has never been written before. Twenty years ago there was a shrewd land agent living in Austin who devoted his undoubted talents and vast knowledge of land titles, and the laws governing them, to the locating of surveys made by illegal certificates, or improperly made, and otherwise of no value through non-compliance with the statutes, or whatever flaws his ingenious and unscrupulous mind could unearth. He found a fatal defect in the title of the land as on file in Bexar Scrip No. 2692 and placed a new certificate upon the survey in his own name. The law was on his side. Every sentiment of justice, of right, and humanity was against him. The certificate by virtue of which the original survey had been made was missing. It was not be found in the file, and no memorandum or date on the wrapper to show that it had ever been filed. Under the law the land was vacant, unappropriated public domain, and open to location. The land was occupied by a widow and her only son, and she supposed her title good.