ance, 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. Well 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
