the family and personality of the hero, and as I cannot give names, I have to omit the best of them. There was a little English boy who left San Antonio before I had reached it, but whose name and fame remained behind him. He was eighteen years of age, and just out of Eton, where he had spent all his pocket-money in betting on the races through commissioners. Gambling was his ruling passion at an age when ginger-pop and sweets appealed more strongly to his contemporaries. His people sent him to Texas with four hundred pounds to buy an interest in a ranch, and furnished him with a complete outfit of London-made clothing. An Englishman who saw the boy’s box told me he had noted the different garments packed carefully away, just as his mother had placed them, and each marked with his name. The Eton boy lost the four hundred pounds at roulette in the first week after his arrival in San Antonio, and pawned his fine clothes in the next to “get back.” He lost all he ventured. At the end of ten days he was peddling fruit around the streets in his bare feet. He made twenty-five cents the first day, and carried it to the gambling-house where he had already lost his larger fortune, and told one of the dealers he would cut the cards with him for the money. The boy cut first, and the dealer won; but the other was enough of a gambler to see that the dealer had stooped to win his last few pennies unfairly. The boy’s eyes filled up with tears of indignation. “You thief!” he cried, “you cheated me!” The dealer took his revolver from the drawer of the table, and, pointing it at his head, said: “Do you know what we do to people who use that word in Texas? We kill them!” The boy clutched the table with both hands and flung himself across it so that his forehead touched the barrel of the revolver. “You thief!” he repeated, and so shrilly that every one in the room heard him. “I say you cheated me!” The gambler lowered the trigger slowly and tossed the pistol back in the drawer. Then he picked up a ten-dollar gold piece and shoved it towards him. [Illustration: MOUNT OF THE HOLY CROSS] “Here,” he said, “that’ll help take you home. You’re too damned tough for Texas!” The other Englishmen in San Antonio filled out the sum and sent him back to England. His people are well known in London; his father is a colonel in the Guards.