ass. A few, horses and men, rose, and ran across
the plain. But the wings of the Mexican force closed in, and continued
the charge, expecting victory, now that the rifles were empty. But they
forgot the pistols. Ned snatched his from the holster, and fired
directly into the evil face of a lancer who was about to crash into him.
The Mexican fell to the ground and his horse, swerving to one side,
galloped on.

The pistols cracked all around Ned, and then, the Mexicans, sheering
off, fled as rapidly as they had charged. But they left several behind
who would never charge again.

"All right, Ned?" said the cheery voice of Obed.

"Not hurt at all," replied the boy. But as he spoke he gazed down at the
face of the man who had tried to crash into him, and he shuddered. He
knew that face. At the first glance it had seemed familiar, and at the
second he had remembered perfectly. It was the face of the man who had
struck him with the butt of a lance on that march in Mexico, when he was
the prisoner of Cos. It seemed a vengeance dealt out by the hand of
fate. He who had received the blow had given it in return, although not
knowing at the time. Ned recognized the justice of fate, but he did not
rejoice. Nor did he speak of the coincidence to anyone. It was not a
thing of which he wished to talk.

"They're gone," said the Ring Tailed Panther, speaking now in satisfied
tones. "They came, they stayed half a minute, an' then they went, but
there was some rippin' an tearin' an' chawin'."

"Yes, they've gone, and they've gone to stay," said Bowie. "It was a
foolish thing to do to charge Texans armed with rifles on the open
prairie."

Ned was looking at the last Mexican as he disappeared over the plain.

CHAPTER XVII

THE OLD CONVENT

The Texans gathered up the arms of the fallen Mexicans, except the
lances for which they had no use, finding several good rifles and a
number of pistols of improved make which were likely to prove of great
value, and then they rode on as briskly as if nothing had happened.

The next day they drew near to San Antonio and entered the beautiful
valley made by the San Antonio River and the creek to which the Mexicans
gave the name San Pedro. Ned found it all very luxuriant and very
refreshing to eyes tired of the prairies and the plains. Despite the
fact that it was the middle of October the green yet endured in that
southern latitude. Splendid forests still in foliage bounded both creek
an