With the legislature gone, Singletary's best source of information on the subject of the republic's governance was Lamar himself. The newspaperman found the president leaving Capitol Square, striding down Congress Avenue, a stocky and erect figure clad in a plum-colored coat and gold vest, his head, with its mop of unruly hair streaked with gray, uncovered. Trailing along behind the president were two men in homespun. Both carried rifles. One cradled his weapon in his arms. The other had his long gun by the barrel and slanted over his shoulder. Walking beside Lamar was Captain Eli Wingate of the Texas Rangers. This was the first time Singletary had seen the Ranger captain since the Council House incident. Wingate's empty sleeve was pinned to his belt. He looked more grim and gaunt than usual.
"Ah, Singletary," said Lamar, as the City Gazette's editor approached. "How are you today?"
"Never better, Mr. President, thank you. Hello, Captain. It is a pleasure to see you fully recuperated." Singletary glanced past Lamar at the pair of riflemen. "And who are these gents?"
Lamar grimaced. "My bodyguards. General Johnston insisted I have them until the Comanche threat is passed."
"Regular army? It's only fitting that the general assigned an entire company to your protection, sir."
Lamar smirked. "Amusing, Singletary. Very amusing."
"It's just that this is the largest contingent of the Texas Regular Army I have ever seen assembled in one place."
"That's because I had put my faith—and the republic's funds—in the Ranger companies." Lamar glanced with displeasure at Wingate. "I had depended on the Rangers for the protection of the frontier. And yet, to my knowledge, not a single Ranger managed to engage the Comanches."
Wingate grimaced. "My men have bottomed out their horses patrolling between here and San Antonio. We figured the hostiles would show up sooner or later. They obviously split into small groups after the Plum Creek fight and slipped through. Besides, we have three companies down on the Nueces Strip. They couldn't be summoned in time, and it would have been unwise to do that anyway, on account of the Mexicans might've taken advantage of the situation and launched a raid of their own. And then there's Caldero and his bunch. Colonel Karnes and his men were responsible for the protection of San Antonio. That leaves two companies strung out north of here all the way to the Cross Timbers, in case the Comanches turned due north. We need more men. That's the long and short of it. I've always said so and I guess I'll always have to."
"More men means more money," said Lamar.
"You could always levee a new tax, Mr. President," said Singletary wryly.
"This is hardly the appropriate time for such a measure, and you know it."
Singletary nodded, sympathetic. "Yes, I see your point, sir. Why give Sam Houston any more political ammunition?"
At the mention of his nemesis, Lamar's features darkened into a scowl. "So you've heard that Houston intends to challenge me for the presidency."
"And I was hoping for a comment from you on that subject. One suitable for publication."
Lamar gave the request a moment's careful consideration. "I trust the citizens of this great and glorious republic will elect the candidate who has demonstrated by his deeds that he has their best interests at heart."
"Meaning you, of course, Mr. President."
"I would hope that the people will have better sense than to elect a drunkard and an Indian lover," said Wingate.
"I've heard Houston has foresworn strong spirits," remarked Singletary.
"Big Drunk couldn't swear off liquor any more than a dog could swear off biting fleas," retorted the Ranger captain.
"Mind if I quote you?"
Wingate shrugged supreme indifference. Lamar said, "Of course you may print that, Singletary. Just make sure you give the captain the credit."
Singletary nodded. He understood completely. In the great tradition of American politics, Lamar would let his lieutenants hurl the truly vile slanders and innuendos.
"I'm told David Burnet has already been to attack Houston's integrity," he said. "In the Telegraph, over the signature of 'Publius.' "
"Has he?" Lamar could not disguise the fact that he was pleased. "And what has he said?"
"The usual things. He's charged Houston with committing just about every category of vice degrading to humanity."
"Well, well." Lamar chuckled. "There's little love lost between those two."
Singletary knew well the truth of that statement. David Burnet had left his clerking job in New York City forty years ago to seek adventure with Miranda in Venezuela. Later he had roamed the far western frontier, living with the Indians. It was said that he never went anywhere without a Bible in one coat pocket and a loaded pistol in the other. During the Texas Revolution, Burnet had been elected provisional president of the new republic. He and Sam Houston had not gotten along. Burnet kept insisting that Houston turn and fight the Mexican Army, and when Houston just as consistently refused, Burnet accused him of cowardice. After the guns had fallen silent at San Jacinto, Burnet appeared at the battlefield and confiscated a stallion, formerly the property of a high-ranking officer in Santa Anna's army, which had been presented to Houston by his admiring men. It was said that the soldiers would have gladly drowned Burnet in the chocolate-brown waters of the San Jacinto had Houston given the signal, but Houston exercised extraordinary—some would say uncharacteristic—restraint in this instance.
Matters got worse. Burnet negotiated a treaty with the captured Santa Anna in which the self-styled Napoleon of the West promised to persuade the Mexican assembly to recognize the independence of Texas in exchange for his release. Members of Burnet's own cabinet were incensed and refused to sign on; Santa Anna's words, they declared, were as worthless as a three-legged mule. Burnet stubbornly went ahead and put Santa Anna aboard the Texas man-o'-war Invincible, bound for Mexico. Unfortunately for Santa Anna—and Burnet—Thomas Jefferson Green and over two hundred North Carolina volunteers arrived in Velasco at that moment. Green boarded the Invincible, shackled Santa Anna, and dragged him unceremoniously back onto Texas soil. Burnet lost the trust of the Texas Army and the Texas people as a result of this incident. He blamed Houston and accused the hero of San Jacinto of conspiring against him. The army was ready to throw Burnet out, but Houston kept them in line. Though he had been shoddily treated by Burnet, Houston refused to countenance mutiny.
During Houston's term as the republic's first elected president, Burnet had constantly heckled him and ridiculed his policies, particularly in regards to making peace with the Indians. Now Burnet was Lamar's vice president. He spent most of his time in Galveston. Singletary was certain he would become Lamar's chief hatchet man in the upcoming campaign. Already he was sharpening his claws on Houston's hide with those articles in the Houston Telegraph and Texas Register, under the pseudonym of Publius.