“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.
“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.”