the soldiers as they sprang to
their feet and a tremendous voice roared:

"At 'em, boys! At 'em! Charge 'em! Now is your time! Rip an' t'ar an'
roar an' chaw! Don't let a single one escape! Sweep the scum off the
face of the earth!"

The Ring Tailed Panther had a mighty voice, issuing from a mighty
throat. Never had he used it in greater volume or to better purpose than
on that night. The forest fairly thundered with the echoes of the battle
cry, and as the dazed Mexicans rushed for their guns only to find them
gone, they thought that the whole Texan army was upon them. In another
instant a new terror struck at their hearts. Their horses and mules,
driven in a frightful stampede, suddenly rushed into the glade and they
were now busy keeping themselves from being trampled to death.

Truly the Panther had spent well the few minutes allotted to him. He
fired new shots, some into the frightened herd. His tremendous voice
never ceased for an instant to encourage his charging troops, and to
roar out threats against the enemy. Urrea, to his credit, made an
attempt to organize his men, to stop the panic, and to see the nature of
the enemy, but he was borne away in the frantic mob of men and horses
which was now rushing for the open plain.

Ned and Obed led the fugitives to the place where the rifles and muskets
were stacked. Here they rapidly distributed the weapons and then broke
across the tree trunks all they could not use or carry. Another minute
and they reached their horses, where the Panther, panting from his huge
exertions, joined them. Ned helped the lame man upon one of the horses,
the weakest two who remained, including the boy, were put upon the
others, and led by the Panther they started northward, leaving the
chaparral.

It was a singular march, but for a long time nothing was said. The sound
of the Mexican stampede could yet be heard, moving to the south, but
they, rescuers and rescued, walked in silence save for the sound of
their feet in the mud of the wind-swept plain. Ned looked curiously at
the faces of those whom they had saved, but the night had not lightened,
and he could discern nothing. They went thus a full quarter of an hour.
The noise of the stampede sank away in the south, and then the Panther
laughed.

It was a deep, hearty, unctuous laugh that came from the very depths of
the man's chest. It was a laugh with no trace of merely superficial joy.
He who uttered it laughed because his heart and