“It’s this way,” explained Mr. Carroll. “Texas wants to be a free and self-governing Mexican state, with all the privileges of the constitution of 1824. But instead of that, the blamed Mexican government has joined us to the other province of Coahuila, that lies next to us, just across the Rio Grande, so we’re only a part of the state of Coahuila and Texas. Now, that doesn’t go. Coahuila province and Texas province are different peoples altogether. Across the Rio Grande everything is Mexican and can be run ’cording to Mexican ideas. But Texas is settled up by Americans, used to different laws and different habits, and perfectly capable of governing themselves if only given the chance. Now when we’re tacked onto Coahuila, and the state officers are mainly located in Coahuila, and they’re most of ’em Mexicans, to boot, a small show does Texas stand of putting through the kind of laws that Americans can live and do business under. Santa Anna, though, will help us as soon as he’s president, now that the revolution ag’in Bustamante has won out. And this spring Texas is going to hold a regular state convention by itself, draw up a state constitution, and ask the government to approve it. I reckon Sam Houston’ll be one of the delegates from Nacogdoches; and if so, the constitution’ll be dog-proof and hog-tight. He ought to be down this way right quick. He was over at San Felipe, to meet Austin, last week, I hear tell, and he’s going on through to Bejar, they say.” Mr. Carroll had spoken correctly, for within a day or two the general (he had been general of the Tennessee militia) did appear in Gonzales. Ernest found him there, at supper time, talking in the midst of a group of citizens. He wore the same big, broad-brimmed whitish hat, and Mexican blanket, and buckskin pantaloons, and looked as large as any two other men. Ernest stood on the outskirts of the little circle of curious spectators, and gazed like the rest of them. He _knew_ Sam Houston; certainly he did; but although Dick Carroll was there, taking part in the conversation, he felt as if it would be rather nervy of him to elbow in. Still, he hoped that the general would notice him, in some way. However, Mr. Carroll chanced to see him, and beckoned him forward. “Here’s another friend of yourn, general,” announced Dick, holding Ernest by the arm. “And he’s a Texan, too. We catch ’em young, in this country. You remember him, I reckon?” The general smiled his wonderful, kindly smile, and stretched out his great hand, which entirely swallowed Ernest’s. “I remember him well, and I congratulate him. The hope of Texas is in the youth who shall be reared within its borders.” Ernest blushed. This was embarrassing, but a warm glow filled his heart, and he determined to deserve those encouraging words. He did not know whether he was doing right, yet now was his opportunity to deliver his message; so he spoke it.