oucher," 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. The clerks were beginning to listen.

"Now, Standifer," said the treasurer, soothingly, "you know I'd like
to help in this matter, but stop and think a moment, please. Every
cent in the treasury is expended only by appropriation made by the
legislature, and drawn out by checks issued by the comptroller.
I can't control the use of a cent of it. Neither can you. Your
department isn't disbursive--it isn't even administrative--it's
purely clerical. The only way for the lady to obtain relief is to
petition the legislature, and--"

"To the devil with the legislature," said Standifer, turning away.

The treasurer called him back.

"I'd be glad, Standifer, to contribute a hundred dollars personally
toward the immediate expenses of Colvin's daughter." He reached for
his pocketbook.

"Never mind, Uncle Frank," said the commissioner, in a softer tone.
"There's no need of that. She hasn't asked for anything of that sort
yet. Besides, her case is in my hands. I see now what a little,
rag-tag, bob-tail, gotch-eared department I've been put in charge
of. It seems t