It was altogether likely, too, so he
calculated, that the Mexican army was now nearer than he to San Antonio.
His flight had taken him to the west while Santa Anna was moving
straight toward the Texan outworks. But he believed that by steady
riding he could reach San Antonio within twenty-four hours.
The afternoon passed without event. Ned saw neither human beings nor
game on the vast prairie. He had hoped that by some chance he might meet
with his comrades, but there was no sign of them, and he fell back on
his belief that their skill and great courage had saved them. Seeking to
dismiss them from his thoughts for the time in order that he might
concentrate all his energies on San Antonio, he rode on. The horse had
recovered completely from his great efforts of the preceding night, and
once more that magnificent piece of machinery worked without a jar. Old
Jack moved over the prairie with long, easy strides. It seemed to Ned
that he could never grow weary. He patted the sinewy and powerful neck.
"Gallant comrade," he said, "you have done your duty and more. You, at
least, will never fail."
Twilight came down, but Ned kept on. By and by he saw in the east, and
for the third time, that fatal red glow extending far along the dusky
horizon.
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