"All things are revealed to him who
looks--at least most of the time. It is true that they are more than
four to our one, but our horses are swift, and we can get away."
"That's right," said the Panther. "Still, we oughtn't to take the risk
unless everybody is willin'. What do you say, Ned?"
"I reply 'yes,' of course," said the boy, "especially as I've an idea
that those are not Mexicans. They look too big and tall, and they sit
too straight up in their saddles for Mexicans."
"Them ideas of yours are ketchin'," said the Panther. "Them fellers may
be Mexicans, but they don't look like Mexicans, they don't act like
Mexicans, an' they ain't Mexicans."
"Take out what isn't, and you have left what is," said Obed.
"We'll soon see," said Ned.
A few minutes more and there could be no further doubt that the thirteen
were Texans or Americans. One rode a little ahead of the others, who
came on in an even line. They were mounted on large horses, but the man
in front held Ned's attention.
The leader was tall and thin, but evidently muscular and powerful. His
hair was straight and black like an Indian's. His features were angular
and tanned by the winds of many years. His body was clothed completely
in buckskin, and a raccoon skin cap was on his head.
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