soldiers, lancers, seemed to number
about two hundred. Their horses were tethered near them, and their
lances were stacked in glittering pyramids. It was early morning.
Several men were cooking breakfast for the whole troop at large fires.
The far edge of the little valley was very rocky and Ned inferred that
he had fallen there by a big outcropping of stone, and that the
soldiers, looking around for firewood, had found him. But they had not
treated him badly, as the serape spread over his body indicated.

Feeling so much better he sat up. The odor of the cooking made him
realize again that he was fiercely hungry. A Mexican brought him a large
tin plate filled with beans and meat chopped small. He ate slowly
although only an effort of the will kept him from devouring the food
like a famished wild animal. The Mexican who had brought him the plate
stood by and watched him, not without a certain sympathy on his face.
Several more Mexicans approached and looked at him with keen curiosity,
but they did not say or do anything that would offend the young Gringo.
Knowing that it was now useless, Ned no longer made any attempt to
conceal his nationality which was evident to all. He finished the plate
and handed it back to the Mexican.

"Many thanks," he said in the native tongue.

"More?" said the soldier, looking at him with understanding.

"I could, without hurting myself," replied Ned with a smile.

A second plate and a cup of water were brought to him. He ate and drank
in leisurely fashion, and began to feel a certain relief. He imagined
that he would be returned to imprisonment in the City of Mexico with Mr.
Austin. At any rate, he had made a good attempt and another chance might
come.

An officer dressed in a very neat and handsome uniform approached and
the other Mexicans fell back respectfully. This man was young, not more
than thirty-two or three, rather tall, fairer than most of his race, and
with a singularly open and attractive face. His dress was that of a
colonel, and the boy knew at once that he was commander of the troop. He
smiled down at Ned, and Ned, despite himself, smiled back.

"I know you," said he, speaking perfect English. "You are Edward Fulton,
the lad who was held in the prison with Stephen Austin, the Texan, the
lad who starved himself that he might slip between the bars of his
window. There was much talk at the capital about it, and you were not
without admirers. You showed so much courage a