Ned became so hardened to the bombardment that he paid little attention
to it. Even when a ball fell inside the Alamo the chances were several
hundred to one that it would not hit him. He had amused himself with a
mathematical calculation of the amount of space he occupied compared
with the amount of space in the Alamo. Thus he arrived at the result,
which indicated comparatively little risk for himself.
The shrewdest calculations are often wrong. As he passed through the
convent yard he met Crockett, and the two walked on together. But before
they had gone half a dozen steps a bomb hissed through the air, fell and
rolled to their feet. It was still hissing and smoking, but Ned, driven
by some unknown impulse, seized it and with a mighty effort hurled it
over the wall, where it burst. Then he stood licking his burned fingers
and looking rather confusedly at Crockett. He felt a certain shyness
over what he had done.
The veteran frontiersman had already formed a great affection for the
boy. He knew that Ned's impulse had come from a brave heart and a quick
mind, and that he had probably saved both their lives. He took a great
resolution that this boy, the youngest of all the defenders, should be
saved.
Pages:
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250