It
occurred to him that a formidable attack might be made here,
particularly under the cover of darkness. A dashing leader like the
younger Urrea might attempt a surprise.
He dropped back inside and went to one of the sentinels who was standing
on an abutment with his head just showing above the wall. He was a young
man, not more than two or three years older than Ned, and he was glad to
have company.
"Have you heard or seen anything?" asked Ned.
"No," replied the sentinel, "but I've been looking for 'em down this
way."
They waited a little longer and then Ned was quite sure that he saw a
dim form in the darkness. He pointed toward it, but the sentinel could
not see it at all, as Ned's eyes were much the keener: But the shape
grew clearer and Ned's heart throbbed.
The figure was that of a great horse, and Ned recognized Old Jack.
Nothing could have persuaded him that the faithful beast was not seeking
his master, and he emitted a low soft whistle. The horse raised his
head, listened and then trotted forward.
"He is mine," said Ned, "and he knows me."
"He won't be yours much longer," said the sentinel. "Look, there's a
Mexican creeping along the ground after him.
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