an experience never to be forgotten by the girls.

"I didn't suppose there were such bea-_u_-tiful dresses in the world,"
sighed Elsie, looking about her.

Mr. Hartley smiled.

"I reckon you'd think so, Miss Elsie," he said, "if you could see the
place when it's in full swing. It's too early yet for the real tourist
season, I imagine. Anyhow, there aren't so many people here as I've
always seen before."

"Well, I shouldn't ask it to be any nicer, anyway," declared Bertha; and
the rest certainly agreed with her.

Bright and early the next morning the Happy Hexagons and Mr. Hartley
started out sight-seeing. Mrs. Kennedy was too tired to go, she said.

"I'll let business slip for an hour or two," Mr. Hartley remarked as
they left the hotel; "at all events, until I get you young people
started."

"Hm-m; you mean, to--the Alamo?" hinted Genevieve, with merry eyes.

"Sure, dearie! The Alamo it shall be," smiled her father. "Then
to-morrow I'll take you to Fort Sam Houston where there are _live_
soldiers."

"Oh, is there an army post here, truly?" cried Tilly.

"Only the largest in the country," answered the Texan, proudly.

"Really? Oh, how splendid! I just love soldiers!"

"Really?" mimicked Mr. Hartley, mischievously. "They'll be pleased to
know it, I'm sure, Miss Tilly."

The others laughed. Tilly blushed and shrugged her shoulders; but she
asked no more questions about Fort Sam Houston for at least five
minutes.

"Now where's the place--the really, truly place?" demanded Cordelia, in
an awed voice, when the party had reached the Alamo Plaza.

"The place--the real place, Miss Cordelia," replied Mr. Hartley, "where
the fight occurred, was in a court over there; and the walls were pulled
down years ago. But this little chapel was part of it, and this is what
everybody always looks at and talks about. The relics are inside. We'll
go in and see them, if you like."

"If we like!" cried Genevieve, fervently. "Just as if we didn't want to
see everything--every single thing there is to see!" she finished, as
her father led the way into the dim interior under the watchful eyes of
the caretaker.

Even Tilly, for a moment, was silenced in the hush and somberness of
the place. Genevieve stole to her father's side. Mr. Hartley, with bared
head, was wearing a look of grave reverence.

"You appreciate it, don't you, Father?" she said softly. "You have
always talked such a lot about it."

He nodded.

"I don't s