"It would be hard, Deaf, for even a bad eye to mistake the foremost."
"Right you are, Hank. You might comb Texas with a fine-tooth comb an'
you'd never rake out such another."
"If that ain't Mart Palmer, the Ring Tailed Panther, I'll go straight to
Santa Anna an' ask him to shoot me as a fool."
"You won't have to go to Santa Anna."
Smith rode from the covert, put his curved hand to his mouth, and
uttered a long piercing cry. The three horsemen stopped at once, and the
giant in the lead gave back the signal in the same fashion. Then the two
little parties rode rapidly toward each other. While they were yet fifty
yards apart they uttered words of hail and good fellowship, and when
they met they shook hands with the friendship that has been sealed by
common hardships and dangers.
"You're goin' toward the Alamo?" said Smith.
"Yes," replied the Panther. "We started that way several days ago, but
we've been delayed. We had a brush with one little party of Mexicans,
and we had to dodge another that was too big for us. I take it that you
ride for the same place."
"We do. Were you with Fannin?"
The dark face of the Panther grew darker.
"We were," he replied.
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