The few houses that made up the village were all dark, but
his business was with none of them. He intended to see, if he could,
whether the main Mexican force was approaching. If it should prove to be
at hand with the heavy cannon there would be no possible chance of
holding the mission, and they must get away.
He continued in his wide curve, knowing that in this case the longest
way around was the best and safest, and he gradually passed into a
stretch of chaparral beyond the town. Crossing it, he came into a
meadow, and then he suddenly heard the soft pad of feet. He sought to
spring back into the chaparral, but a huge dim figure bore down upon
him, and then his heart recovered its normal beat when he saw that it
was only Old Jack.
Ned stroked the great muzzle affectionately, but he was compelled to put
away his friend.
"No, faithful comrade," he said. "I can't take you with me. I'd like to
do it, but there's no room in a church for a horse as big as you are.
Go now! Go at once, or the Mexicans will get you!"
He struck the horse smartly on the jaw. Old Jack looked at him
reproachfully, but turned and trotted away from the town. Ned continued
his scout. This proof of affection from a dumb brute cheered him.
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