s than we can."

"Looks like it. I ain't much of a hand at money, but I like the looks of
that man Roylston, an' I reckon the more rifles and the more ammunition
we have the fewer Mexicans will be left."

The two scouts, having smoked as long as they wished, went to their
quarters and slept soundly through the night. But Houston and the
leading Texans with him hardly slept at all. There was but one course to
choose, and they were fully aware of its gravity, Houston perhaps more
so than the rest, as he had seen more of the world. They worked nearly
all night in the bare room, and when Houston sought his room he was
exhausted.

Houston's room was a bare little place, lighted by a tallow candle, and
although it was not long until day he sat there a while before lying
down. A man of wide experience, he alone, with the exception of
Roylston, knew how desperate was the situation of the Texans. In truth,
it was the money of Roylston sent from New Orleans that had caused him
to hazard the chance. He knew, too, that, in time, more help would
arrive from the same source, and he believed there would be a chance
against the Mexicans, a fighting chance, it is true, but men who were
willing to die for a cause seldom failed to win. He blew out the candle,
got in bed and slept soundly.

"Deaf" Smith and Henry Karnes were up early--they seldom slept late--and
saw the sun rise out of the prairie. They were in a house which had a
small porch, looking toward the Brazos. After breakfast they lighted
their cob pipes again, smoked and meditated.

"Reckon somethin' was done by our leadin' statesmen last night," said
Smith.

"Reckon there was," said Karnes.

"Reckon I can guess what it was."

"Reckon I can, too."

"Reckon I'll wait to hear it offish-ul-ly before I speak."

"Reckon I will, too. Lots of time wasted talkin'."

"Reckon you're right."

They sat in silence for a full two hours. They smoked the first hour,
and they passed the second in their chairs without moving. They had
mastered the borderer's art of doing nothing thoroughly, when nothing
was to be done. Then a man came upon the porch and spoke to them. His
name was Burnet, David G. Burnet.

"Good mornin'. How is the new republic?" said "Deaf" Smith.

"So you know," said Burnet.

"We don't know, but we've guessed, Hank an' me. We saw things as they
was comin'."

"I reckon, too," said Karnes, "that we ain't a part of Mexico any more."

"No, we're a free an' in