“Tyania gave me a rifle, when I started,” he stammered. “And she said to tell you, when I saw you in Texas, that she would wait for you up there but she didn’t think she’d come down here.” “Tyania?” mused the general, in his resonant voice. He repeated the name, dwelling tenderly on the syllables, “Tyania? A noble woman, who succored me in the darkest hours of my adversity. She belongs to my past life. I shall send for her, I shall send for her; and my only fear is that she will _not_ come.” He swept a fierce, eagle glance around him. “Let no man ever utter a word derogatory to Tyania Rodgers.” And in due time Sam Houston did send for Tyania to share his new life; but she refused to leave her Indian people. There, shortly afterwards, she died. Dick Carroll broke the brief silence that followed the general’s emphatic speech. “I want this lad to meet Jim Bowie, too,” he said. “Shake hands with Ernest Merrill, colonel. He’s thrown in with Texas, and is going to be one of us as fast as he can. His uncle was wiped out by the Injuns on the Trinity; named John Andrews.” “I am pleased to meet the nephew,” responded Mr. Bowie, politely, extending a slim, bronzed hand. “I have heard of the unfortunate fate of Sergeant Andrews.” Ernest bravely shook hands with a tall, straight man, of powerful frame, light, fine skin, and smooth complexion set with small stern mouth and a pair of coldly fierce blue eyes. But he had a gentle manner, and Ernest decided to like him. “Well, gentlemen, let us to what business there may be,” prompted General Houston. The group dissolved. The general and Colonel Bowie and several other men walked away; Dick Carroll and Ernest proceeded to their supper. “Sam Houston’s surely going to stay in Texas,” remarked Mr. Carroll. “You heard what he said about Tyania and his past life. He’s already sort of taken up residence at Nacogdoches, and agreed to be a delegate to the convention, if he’s elected. He and Jim Bowie are bound for Bejar, where Houston talks to the Comanche Indians, to get ’em to attend a treaty council at Fort Gibson and promise to be friendly to the United States. Colonel Bowie――――” he added. “Don’t forget that you’ve met James Bowie. He was born in Georgia, but he was raised in Louisiana. You’ve heard of the bowie-knife? Jim and his brother Rezin invented it――mostly Rezin, they say. Jim’s a terrible fighter when he’s called on to fight. They claim he’s the only man who ever roped and rode an alligator, alone, for fun. Rezin and he have been in some powerful Indian tussles, since they came to Texas. He’s married now to the daughter of Juan Veramendi, the vice-governor of state of Coahuila and Texas, at Bejar, and has the license for a big cotton and wool factory, over beyond the Rio Grande. But I doubt if he’s the kind of a man to settle down to that.”