“We want him in Texas, gentlemen. They held a meeting at Nacogdoches of Eastern Texas, the other day, and passed resolution to invite him to come down and help make Texas. He can have anything he asks for.” “Who? Sam Houston?” laughed the steamboat captain――still in a bad humor. “Why, he’s turned squaw man; married to a half-breed Cherokee woman, up in the Cherokee nation. Went down to Washington on a scheme to get a government contract for selling supplies to the Cherokees, beat a senator there half to death, who dared criticize him, and raised an awful muss. Senate had him arrested, and if it wasn’t for Andrew Jackson I reckon they’d have put him in jail. Texas must be hard up, to send for _him_.” The Texan whirled on him indignantly. “Don’t talk against Sam Houston to me, sir. I knew him in Tennessee, and you can’t tell us Tennesseeans anything about Sam Houston. He’s one of the noblest characters Providence ever created, sir. He’s got not a drop of mean or cowardly blood in his big body. I well know that after he parted from his wife (and the secret of his trouble has never passed his lips) he resigned governorship and all and fled to his friends the Injuns till he could straighten out again. But Old Hickory (and Ernest knew that meant General Andrew Jackson, the President) has stood by him, and anybody that Old Hickory sticks to through thick and thin must be pretty much of a man. You’ll see Sam Houston recover yet from whatever it is that floored him, and he’ll be honored in the history of this country long after you and I are forgotten. Where is he? Up at Gibson?” “Yes,” sullenly responded the captain. “He passed through Little Rock, they say, some time ago, after being in that muss at Washington, so I reckon he’s running his trading store opposite the fort, again, and drinking whisky. They call him ‘Drunken Sam.’ You’ve a right to your opinion, but mine is that Houston’s fallen mighty low, for a senator and a governor.” “Low as he is, he’s Sam Houston, and he’ll rise again,” sternly declared the Texan. “He’ll speak for himself, like he’s done before.” “How’s the feeling on annexation to the United States, sir?” queried the lieutenant. “There’s a report at New Orleans that President Jackson has asked Houston to investigate with that in view.” The Texan laughed easily. “We’ve 20,000 Americans in Texas, sir, but we’re not aiming now to cut loose from Mexico. We’ve pledged ourselves to Santa Anna and the constitution of 1824. What we want is our state rights in the Mexican republic, and Sam Houston to lead us.” “How about Austin?”