"Yes, an' 'specially that fellow Urrea. His uncle bein' one of Santa
Anna's leadin' gen'rals, he's likely to have freer rein, an', as we
know, he's clever an' active. I'd hate to fall into his hands again."
They rode more slowly, and three pairs of eyes continually searched the
plain for an enemy. Ned's sight was uncommonly acute, and Obed and the
Panther frequently appealed to him as a last resort. It flattered his
pride and he strove to justify it.
Their pace became slower and slower, and presently the early twilight of
winter was coming. A cold wind moaned, but the desolate plain was broken
here and there by clumps of trees. At the suggestion of the Panther
they rode to one of these and halted under cover of the timber.
"The river can't be much more than a mile ahead," said the Panther, "an'
we might run into the Mexicans any minute. We're sheltered here, an'
we'd better wait a while. Then I think we can do more stalkin'."
Obed and Ned were not at all averse, and dismounting they stretched
themselves, easing their muscles. Old Jack hunted grass and, finding
none, rubbed Ned's elbow with his nose suggestively.
"Never mind, old boy," said Ned, patting the glossy muzzle of his
faithful comrade.
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