e convent. Bowie walked forward to meet them.

"You were never more welcome, Fannin," he said to the leader of the
group.

The man sprang from his horse, and grasped Bowie's hand.

"We rode as fast as we could, but I didn't know it was you, Jim," he
said. "Some of our scouts heard a bell somewhere playing The Star
Spangled Banner in the night. We thought they were dreaming, but they
swore to it. So we concluded it must be a call for help and I came with
the troop that you see here. We lost the direction once or twice, but
the bell called us back."

"For that," said Bowie, "you have to thank this boy here, a boy in years
only, a man in action, and two men in mind and courage. This is Ned
Fulton, Colonel Fannin."

Ned blushed and expostulated, but Bowie took nothing back. Fannin looked
about him curiously.

"You seem to have had something of a fight here," he said. "Down in the
grass and weeds we saw several Comanches who will trouble no more."

"We had all we wanted," said Bowie, "and we shall be glad to ride at
once with you to camp. I bring some good men for the cause, and there
are more behind."

They buried the fallen man in the old flower garden, and then rode
swiftly for the Texan camp on the Salado.

CHAPTER XVIII

IN SAN ANTONIO

It was a crisp October morning, and as he galloped through the fresh
air, all of Ned's spirits came back to him. He would soon be with the
full array of the Texans, marching forward boldly to meet Cos himself
and all his forces. The great strain of the fight the night before
passed away as he inhaled the sparkling air. The red came back to his
cheeks, and he felt that he was ready to go wherever the boldest of the
Texans led. The Ring Tailed Panther shared his emotions.

"Fine, isn't it?" said he. "Great valley, too, but it oughtn't to belong
to the Mexicans. It's been going down under them for a long time. They
haven't been able to protect it from Comanches, Apaches and Lipans. The
old convent that we held last night had been abandoned for fear of the
Indians, an' lots of other work that the Spaniards an' Mexicans did has
gone the same way."

The beauty of the country increased, as they rode. Fine springs of cold
water gushed from the hills and flowed down into the clear green stream
of the San Antonio. The groves of oaks and pecans were superb, but they
passed more desolate and abandoned buildings and crossed more irrigation
ditches choked up with refuse.

Bo