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loudly and buttoning his coat again, briskly."And now, ma'am, who was the infernal skunk--I beg your pardon, ma'am--who was the gentleman you married?"

"Benton Sharp."

The commissioner plumped down again into his chair, with a groan.This gentle, sad little woman, in the rusty black gown, the daughter of his oldest friend, the wife of Benton Sharp! Benton Sharp, one of the most noted "bad" men in that part of the state--a man who had been a cattle thief, an outlaw, a desperado, and was now a gambler, a swaggering bully, who plied his trade in the larger frontier towns, relying upon his record and the quickness of his gun play to maintain his supremacy.Seldom did any one take the risk of going "up against"

Benton Sharp.Even the law officers were content to let him make his own terms of peace.Sharp was a ready and an accurate shot, and as lucky as a brand-new penny at coming clear from his scrapes.Standifer wondered how this pillaging eagle ever came to be mated with Amos Colvin's little dove, and expressed his wonder.

Mrs.Sharp sighed.

"You see, Mr.Standifer, we didn't know anything about him, and he can be very pleasant and kind when he wants to.We lived down in the little town of Goliad.Benton came riding down that way, and stopped there a while.I reckon I was some better looking then than I am now.

He was good to me for a whole year after we were married.He insured his life for me for five thousand dollars.But for the last six months he has done everything but kill me.I often wish he had done that, too.He got out of money for a while, and abused me shamefully for not having anything he could spend.Then father died, and left me the little home in Goliad.My husband made me sell that, and turned me out into the world.I've barely been able to live, for I'm not strong enough to work.Lately, I heard he was making money in San Antonio, so I went there, and found him, and asked for a little help.This,"

touching the livid bruise on her temple, "is what he gave me.So I came on to Austin to see the governor.I once heard father say that there was some land, or a pension, coming to him from the state that he never would ask for."

Luke Standifer rose to his feet, and pushed his chair back.He looked rather perplexedly around the big office, with its handsome furniture.

"It's a long trail to follow," he said, slowly, "trying to get back dues from the government.There's red tape and lawyers and rulings and evidence and courts to keep you waiting.I'm not certain," continued the commissioner, with a profoundly meditative frown, "whether this department that I'm the boss of has any jurisdiction or not.It's only Insurance, Statistics, and History, ma'am, and it don't sound as if it would cover the case.But sometimes a saddle blanket can be made to stretch.You keep your seat, just for a few minutes, ma'am, till I step into the next room and see about it."

The state treasurer was seated within his massive, complicated railings, reading a newspaper.Business for the day was about over.

The clerks lolled at their desks, awaiting the closing hour.The Commissioner of Insurance, Statistics, and History entered, and leaned in at the window.

The treasurer, a little, brisk old man, with snow-white moustache and beard, jumped up youthfully and came forward to greet Standifer.They were friends of old.

"Uncle Frank," said the commissioner, using the familiar name by which the historic treasurer was addressed by every Texan, "how much money have you got on hand?"

The treasurer named the sum of the last balance down to the odd cents --something more than a million dollars.

The commissioner whistled lowly, and his eyes grew hopefully bright.

"You know, or else you've heard of, Amos Colvin, Uncle Frank?"

"Knew him well," said the treasurer, promptly."A good man.A valuable citizen.One of the first settlers in the Southwest."

"His daughter," said Standifer, "is sitting in my office.She's penniless.She's married to Benton Sharp, a coyote and a murderer.

He's reduced her to want, and broken her heart.Her father helped build up this state, and it's the state's turn to help his child.A

couple of thousand dollars will buy back her home and let her live in peace.The State of Texas can't afford to refuse it.Give me the money, Uncle Frank, and I'll give it to her right away.We'll fix up the red-tape business afterward."

The treasurer looked a little bewildered.

"Why, Standifer," he said, "you know I can't pay a cent out of the treasury without a warrant from the comptroller.I can't disburse a dollar without a voucher to show for it."

The commissioner betrayed a slight impatience.

"I'll give you a voucher," he declared."What's this job they've given me for? Am I just a knot on a mesquite stump? Can't my office stand for it? Charge it up to Insurance and the other two sideshows.Don't Statistics show that Amos Colvin came to this state when it was in the hands of Greasers and rattlesnakes and Comanches, and fought day and night to make a white man's country of it? Don't they show that Amos Colvin's daughter is brought to ruin by a villain who's trying to pull down what you and I and old Texans shed our blood to build up? Don't History show that the Lone Star State never yet failed to grant relief to the suffering and oppressed children of the men who made her the grandest commonwealth in the Union? If Statistics and History don't bear out the claim of Amos Colvin's child I'll ask the next legislature to abolish my office.Come, now, Uncle Frank, let her have the money.I'll sign the papers officially, if you say so; and then if the governor or the comptroller or the janitor or anybody else makes a kick, by the Lord I'll refer the matter to the people, and see if they won't endorse the act."

The treasurer looked sympathetic but shocked.The commissioner's voice had grown louder as he rounded off the sentences that, however praiseworthy they might be in sentiment, reflected somewhat upon the capacity of the head of a more or less important department of state.