the passage
of his body.

As he leaped into the window-opening, he heard voices in the corridor,
outside of the cell. Then his jailer and a Mexican officer appeared at
the cell door.

"Ha! he is escaping!" roared the jailer, in Spanish. "Stop!" And he ran
to Ralph, to detain him, but the boy dropped to the court outside, and
scampered off as fast as his feet would carry him.

An alarm at once sounded, and the cry arose that the prisoners
throughout the jail were rising. This, of course, was not so, yet the
excitement was great within the walls, and, for the minute, Ralph was
allowed to depart unmolested.

In the darkness Big Foot joined him, and thrust into his hands a stout
club. "Club much good, sometime," said the Comanche. "Knock down
Mexican, maybe, if in way."

He led the way down one street and another, until the vicinity of the
plaza was gained.

Suddenly, as they turned an alleyway, a volley from the Mexican
garrison was fired.

"Run! run! or get shot!" shouted the Comanche, and then, as Ralph
turned in one direction, the Indian turned in another, and, in a trice,
they became separated in the darkness.

Ralph kept on running, he knew not where, only that he might escape the
bullets, which appeared to be flying in all directions.

He could not go around by the plaza nor by the church, and so cut into
a gloomy courtyard. Still running, he reached the stone wall of a
house. A window was close at hand, and he leaped through this, to pitch
headlong on the floor beyond, too exhausted to go another step.

As related before, the firing kept up all this night, and was renewed
with vigour in the morning. In the meantime, the trench across the
street had been completed, so that the two divisions were in
communication with one another. It was fighting at close quarters, and
San Antonio looked as if in the throes of a big riot.

The Texans had been trying to bring a twelve-pounder into position,
but, so far, they had failed. Now, however, it was mounted at a
commanding point, and fired several times, with fair effect. In the
meantime, Deaf Smith and a party began to do some sharpshooting from
the top of the vice-governor's residence, but the Mexicans drove them
off, and Smith was severely wounded.

When Ralph came to himself, he found that he was in a room that was
pitch-dark. From a distance came a hum of voices, and the steady blows
of some blunt instruments, probably axes or picks. The firing continued