innied once and rubbed
his nose against Ned's hand. He, too, had ceased to shiver.

All that afternoon the Norther blew with undiminished violence. After a
while the fall of snow thinned somewhat, but the wind did not decrease.
Ned was devoutly thankful for the dip and the bushes that grew within
it. Nor was he less thankful for the companionship of his horse. It was
a good horse, a brave horse, a great bay mustang, built powerfully and
with sinews and muscles of steel. He had secured him just after taking
part in the capture of San Antonio with his comrades, Obed White and the
Ring Tailed Panther, and already the tie between horse and rider had
become strong and enduring. Ned stroked him again, and the horse,
twisting his neck around, thrust his nose under his arm.

"Good old boy! Good fellow!" said Ned, pinching his ear. "We were lucky,
you and I, to find this place."

The horse neighed ever so gently, and rubbed his nose up and down. After
a while the darkness began to increase. Ned knew that it was not a new
development of the storm, but the coming of night, and he grew anxious
again. He and his horse, however secure at the present moment, could not
stay always in that dip among the bushes. Yet he did not dare to leave
it. Above on the plain they would receive the full sweep of the wind,
which was still bitterly cold.

He was worn by the continued buffetings of blast and snow, but he did
not dare to lie down, even in the blankets, lest he never wake again,
and while he considered he saw darker shadows in the darkness above him.
He gazed, all attention, and counted ten shadows, following one another,
a dusky file. He knew by the set of their figures, short and stocky,
that they were Mexicans, and his heart beat heavily. These were the
first Mexicans that any one had seen on Texan soil since the departure
of Cos and his army on parole from captured San Antonio. So the Mexicans
had come back, and no doubt they would return in great force!

Ned crouched lower, and he was very glad that the nose of the horse was
still under his arm. He would not have a chance to whinny to his kind
that bore the Mexicans. But the horse made no attempt to move, and Ned
watched them pass on and out of sight. He had not heard the sound of
footsteps or voices above the wind, and after they were gone it seemed
to him that he had seen a line of phantoms.

But he was sure that his own mortal eyes had beheld that for which he
was looking. H