once, on pain of death, to
his authority. He called for Mrs. Dickinson, the young wife, now widow,
whom the gallantry of Almonte had saved from massacre in the Alamo. He
directed her to take his threat to the Texans at Gonzales, and she
willingly accepted. Mounting a horse and alone save for the baby in her
arms, she rode away from San Antonio, shuddering at the sight of the
Mexicans, and passed out upon the desolate and dangerous prairies.

The dictator was so absorbed in his triumph and his plans for his
greater glory that for the time he forgot all about Ned Fulton, his
youthful prisoner, who had crossed the stream and who was now in the
town, attended by the two peons whom Urrea had detailed as his guards.
But Ned had come out of his daze, and his mind was as keen and alert as
ever. The effects of the great shock of horror remained. His was not a
bitter nature, but he could not help feeling an intense hatred of the
Mexicans. He was on the battle line, and he saw what they were doing. He
resolved that now was his time to escape, and in the great turmoil
caused by the excitement and rejoicing in San Antonio he did not believe
that it would be difficult.

He carefully cultivated the good graces of the two soldiers who were
guarding him. He bought for them mescal and other fiery drinks which
were now being sold in view of the coming festival. Their good nature
increased and also their desire to get rid of a task that had been
imposed upon them. Why should they guard a boy when everybody else was
getting ready to be merry?

They went toward the Main Plaza, and came to the Zambrano Row, where the
Texans had fought their way when they took San Antonio months before.
Ned looked up at the buildings. They were still dismantled. Great holes
were in the walls and the empty windows were like blind eyes. He saw at
once that their former inhabitants had not yet returned to them, and
here he believed was his chance.

When they stood beside the first house he called the attention of his
guards to some Mexican women who were decorating a doorway across the
street. When they looked he darted into the first of the houses in the
Zambrano Row. He entered a large room and at the corner saw a stairway.
He knew this place. He had been here in the siege of San Antonio by the
Texans, and now he had the advantage over his guards, who were probably
strangers.

He rushed for the staircase and, just as he reached the top, one of the
guards