The Texan Scouts | Page 5

lowered his
own mirror and the light played directly upon his hill. When it ceased
he sent back answering rays, to which, when he stopped, a rejoinder
came in like fashion. Then he put the little mirror back in the safe
pocket of his hunting shirt and rode with perfect confidence toward that
western hill.
The crest that Ned sought was several miles away, although it looked
much nearer in the thin clear air of the plains, but he rode now at
increased speed, because there was much to draw him on. Old Jack
seemed to share in his lightness of spirit, raising his head once and
neighing, as if he were sending forth a welcome.
The boy soon saw two figures upon the hill, the shapes of horse and
man, outlined in black against the sun, which was now declining in the
west. They were motionless and they were exaggerated into gigantic
stature against the red background. Ned knew them, although the
distance was far too great to disclose any feature. But signal had spoken
truly to signal, and that was enough. Old Jack made a fresh burst of
speed and presently neighed once more. An answering neigh came back
from the hill.
Ned rode up the slope and greeted Obed White and the Ring Tailed
Panther with outstretched hands.
"And it's you, my boy," said Obed, his eyes glistening. "Until we saw
your signal we were afraid that you might have frozen to death in the
Norther, but it's a long lane that has no happy ending, and here we are,
all three of us, alive, and as well as ever."
"That's so," said the Panther, "but even when the storm was at its worst
I didn't give up, Ned. Somehow, when things are at the blackest I'm

always hopin'. I don't take any credit fur it. I was just born with that
kind of a streak in me."
Ned regarded him with admiration. The Ring Tailed Panther was
certainly a gorgeous object. He rode a great black horse with a flowing
mane. He was clad completely in a suit of buckskin which was
probably without a match on the border. It and his moccasins were
adorned with thick rows of beads of many colors, that glittered and
flashed as the sunlight played upon them. Heavy silver spurs were
fastened to his heels, and his hat of broad brim and high cone in the
Mexican fashion was heavy with silver braid. His saddle also was of
the high, peaked style, studded with silver. The Panther noticed Ned's
smile of appraisement and smiled back.
"Ain't it fine?" he said. "I guess this is about the beautifullest outfit to
be found in either Texas or Mexico. I bought it all in honor of our
victory just after we took San Antonio, and it soothes my eyes and
makes my heart strong every time I look at it."
"And it helps out the prairies," said Obed White, his eyes twinkling.
"Now that winter has made 'em brown, they need a dash of color and
the Panther gives it to 'em. Fine feathers don't keep a man from being a
man for a' that. What did you do in the storm, Ned?"
"I found shelter in a thick grove, managed to light a fire, and slept there
in my blankets."
"We did about the same."
"But I saw something before I reached my shelter."
"What was that?" exclaimed the two, noting the significance in Ned's
tone.
"While I was waiting in a dip I saw ten Mexican horsemen ride by.
They were heavily armed, and I've no doubt they were scouts belonging
to some strong force."

"And so they are back on this side of the Rio Grande," said Obed White
thoughtfully. "I'm not surprised. Our Texans have rejoiced too early.
The full storm has not burst yet."
The Panther began to bristle. A giant in size, he seemed to grow larger,
and his gorgeous hunting suit strained at the seams.
"Let 'em come on," he said menacingly. "Let Santa Anna himself lead
'em. We Texans can take care of 'em all."
But Obed White shook his head sadly.
"We could if we were united," he said, "but our leaders have taken to
squabbling. You're a Cheerful Talker, Panther, and you deserve both
your names, but to tell you the honest truth I'm afraid of the Mexican
advance."
"I think the Mexicans probably belonged to Urrea's band," said Ned.
"Very likely," said Obed. "He's about the most energetic of their
partisan leaders, and it may be that we'll run against him pretty soon."
They had heard in their scouting along the Rio Grande that young
Francisco Urrea, after the discovery that he was a spy and his
withdrawal from San Antonio with the captured