But me an' Betsy here stand ready for it."
He patted lovingly the stock of his long rifle as he spoke the word
"Betsy." It was the same word "Betsy" that gave Ned his sudden
knowledge.
"I'm thinking that you are Davy Crockett," he said.
The man's face was illumined with an inimitable smile.
"Correct," he said. "No more and no less. Andy Jackson kept me from
going back to Washington, an' so me an' these twelve good friends of
mine, Tennesseans like myself, have come here to help free Texas."
He reached out his hand and Ned grasped it. The boy felt a thrill. The
name of Davy Crockett was a great one in the southwest, and here he was,
face to face, hands gripped with the great borderer.
"This is Mr. Palmer, known all over Texas as the Panther, and Mr. Obed
White, once of Maine, but now a Texan," said Ned, introducing his
friends.
Crockett and the Panther shook hands, and looked each other squarely in
the eye.
"Seems to me," said Crockett, "that you're a man."
"I was jest thinkin' the same of you," said the Panther.
"An' you," said Crockett to Obed White, "are a man, too. But they
certainly do grow tall where you come from."
"I'm not as wide as a barn door, but I may be long enough to reach the
bottom of a well," said Obed modestly.
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