"Dan!" The cry came faintly from Henry, who had slowly raised himself.
"Where--what--oh, I remember, now!" And he sank back again.

"It's all right, Henry; I've made Stiger a prisoner."

"A prisoner!" whined the half-breed. "Ain't I suffered enough already?
My leg is somethin' fearful!" and he groaned again.

"You brought it all on yourself, Stiger, so you need not complain to
me."

"I didn't, you----"

"I won't listen to any more explanations. Throw your knife over here,
and be careful you don't hit anybody with it."

The half-breed fumed and raved, but all to no purpose, and at last the
knife came over, and was followed by the broken pistol.

"Now don't you dare to move," went on Dan, and then turned his
attention to Henry. Not far away was a little brook flowing into the
Guadalupe, and here Dan procured some water with which he bathed his
friend's wound.

The departure from the town shore had been noted by several lumbermen,
and, having heard the pistol-shots, several came over to learn if a
fight was going on. By calling out, the lumbermen managed to locate our
friends and soon came up to them. They listened to Dan's tale with
close attention.

"We ought to go fer to string the half-breed up," was the comment of
one of the woodsmen. "We've got enough trouble on hand without allowin'
sech chaps to make more."

"Thet's jest the size on it," added another. "String him up on the
spot."

But Dan would not countenance this, nor would Henry, who had now fully
recovered, although the bullet had left an ugly scratch which he was
bound to wear to the day of his death. Finally a compromise was made
with Stiger, who offered to hobble down to the river, although scarcely
able to walk. The threat to hang him had rendered the half-breed
thoroughly sober.

The return to the town was made without incident, and at the local
lockup Dan told his story, and it was decided to keep Stiger a prisoner
for the time being. He was searched, and in one of his pockets was
found some small silver trinkets, which Dan at once identified as
belonging to his father. But no trace was there of the papers relating
to the land grant.

"But these trinkets prove that Stiger was the thief," said Dan. "I
would like you to keep him a prisoner until my father can come here and
make a regular charge against him." And so the matter was allowed to
rest. Stiger was in a rage, and vowed that he would surely get even
with Dan some day.

When Henry Parker arrived home his mother was much alarmed to find that
he had been shot. Yet beyond the shock the young man had suffered
little, and after having the wound properly dressed he felt as well as
ever.

"I might rather have gone off to the war," he grumbled. "Dan and I are
getting all the fighting by staying at home."

It was hardly daybreak when Dan started to return to the ranch. He
would not have gone back at all just then, only he knew Ralph would
grow anxious if he did not return. As soon as he could arrange it, the
youth had determined to ride over to where the army was encamped, to
tell his parent of the encounter with Stiger, and learn if Mr. Radbury
wished to take up the case.

Dan had not to take the trip alone, as two of the lumbermen were going
up the Guadalupe on business. As yet only a small portion of the Texans
had joined the army, many of the others having no idea that a regular
revolution was at hand.

"It won't amount to shucks," said one of the lumbermen, as the three
rode along the river trail. "We'll have a lot of meetings and a
scrimmage or two, and then Santa Anna will come over with a big army,
and our leaders won't dare to call their souls their own."

"I cannot agree with you," answered Dan. "Our folks have suffered too
much to turn back now."

"But we ain't got no army,--only a lot o' farmers and rancheros, and
blacklegs who have run away from the United States to escape justice.
Mexico has a finely trained lot o' soldiers."

"Well, the United States didn't have any trained army at the opening of
the Revolution," retorted Dan, warmly. "But we showed King George's men
a thing or two before we got through with them."

"Well, if we do fight 'em and obtain our liberty, what then?" put in
the second lumberman. "The politicians will run everything to suit
themselves. We won't have any more rights than we have now."

"Never mind, I think matters will be a good deal better," answered Dan.
"Anyway," he added, with a peculiar smile, "do you believe in giving up
your arms?"

"Not much!" answered both lumbermen, promptly. "That's a fool law."

"Then what are you going to do, if the greasers demand your guns and
pistols, as they demanded that cannon?"

This proved a clincher, and the lumbermen changed the subject. They
were for peace, but it may be as well to state here that, in the end,
they joined the army, and fought as nobly for liberty as did the
average Texan soldier.

Before the journey was half over, it had begun to rain, and by the time
the ranch home was reached, Dan and his companions were wet to the
skin. As it still poured down steadily, the lumbermen were glad to
avail themselves of the Radburys' offer to stay at the cabin for the
balance of the day.

"Hurrah for our side!" cried Ralph, when told of the battle at the
Mission Concepcion. "If they have a few more such fights, perhaps the
Mexicans will wake up to the idea that we have some rights they are
bound to respect."

He was glad to hear that Stiger had been jailed, and sorry that Henry
Parker had been wounded. "Henry can make a charge even if father
doesn't," he said.

Ralph and Pompey had had troubles of their own during Dan's brief
absence. Two prize mustangs, not yet broken in, had gotten out of the
corral near the cattle shed, and although the boy and the negro had
managed to round up one of the steeds, the other had persisted in
keeping just out of their reach.

"I tried to lasso him," said Ralph, "but I wasn't equal to it, and, of
course, Pompey knows nothing of a lasso."

"Well, we can go after him when the storm clears away," answered Dan.

Pompey had prepared a substantial dinner, and the balance of the day
passed off pleasantly enough. By morning the storm had cleared away,
and the lumbermen took their departure. Then Dan procured a lasso, and
he and Ralph mounted their steeds and set off on a search for the
missing mustang, which was a beauty, and which Mr. Radbury prized very
highly.

"He went off to the southwest," said Ralph, as the brothers rode away.
"Of course, there is no telling how far he ran. I suppose it will be a
good deal like looking for a needle in a haystack to locate him."

"Well, we can do our best, Ralph. I know father set a great store by
that white pony. He was thinking of breaking him in for his own use."

"I know it, and that is why I tried so hard to capture him. But I can't
get the hang of the lasso," and Ralph shook his head, for he had tried
to land the loop over the mustang's head at least a score of times.

"You'll learn in time. It's more the knack of it than anything else.
Come, let us hurry!" and Dan set off at a gallop. He was thinking
altogether of the mustang, and never dreamed of the other odd adventure
in store for him,--an adventure which was to make a soldier of him
almost before he was aware.




CHAPTER XVII.

THE GRASS FIGHT, AND WHAT FOLLOWED.


The victory at Concepcion, as was natural, greatly strengthened the
cause of the Texans, and immediately afterward the number of volunteers
in the army increased. Seeing this, Austin moved his command still
closer, and settled into a regular siege of San Antonio. The scouts,
under Colonel Bowie, surrounded the town, to give warning of the
approach of any reinforcements for General Cos, who remained within,
still barricading the streets and wondering how soon the revolutionists
would attack him.

In the meantime, a general meeting of citizens and political leaders
was held at San Felipe, and at this convention, as it was termed,
Austin was elected as a commissioner to seek aid in the United States.
This left Austin's place in the army vacant, and General Edward
Burleson, an old Indian fighter, was selected to fill the position.

General Cos was boxed up in San Antonio with a force estimated at from
twelve hundred to sixteen hundred men. Many of his soldiers belonged to
mounted companies, and it became a problem, not only how to feed the
men, but also how to feed so many animals. There were rations to hold
out for some time, but little forage. To make the matter still more
difficult for the Mexican commander, Bowie and others ordered all the
grass in the immediate vicinity of San Antonio burnt. This caused one
or two small fires among the huts on the outskirts of the town, and
came near to starting a panic.

At last General Cos felt that he must either have forage for his
soldiers' horses, or else slaughter them, and he hired bodies of the
Mexican farmers to go out, during the night, to gather such grass as
could be gotten within a reasonable distance of the town. These bodies
of men invariably went out under the protection of one or more
companies of cavalry.

The expeditions after forage brought on what was called the Grass
Fight. Among Bowie's scouts was an old frontiersman called Deaf Smith,
and one day when Smith was out he discovered a body of farmers and
cavalry, about a hundred strong. The panniers of the horses and mules
were stuffed with grass, but as the body was a long way off, Smith
mistook them for some troops come to reinforce General Cos, and
supposed the stuffed panniers to be filled with silver to pay off the
Bexar garrison.

Without waiting to make certain about his discovery, Deaf Smith rode
pell-mell into the camp of the Texans. "The reinforcements are coming!"
he shouted. "Ugartchea is here!"

"Ugartchea! Ugartchea!" was the cry taken up on all sides, and it was
not long before Colonel Bowie set off with a hundred of the best Texan
horsemen to intercept the supposed newcomers.

The Mexicans saw them approach, but it was too late to get back into
San Antonio, and while a few of the farmers managed to escape, the
Mexican cavalry took up a position in the bed of a dry creek. The
plight of those outside of the city was seen by those within, and
General Cos instantly despatched more cavalry to the relief, and also
two pieces of artillery.

The creek, which was in reality a deep gully, was overgrown on either
side with tall brush, and Bowie had some difficulty in bringing up his
command to a firing position. But some of the scouts could not be held
back, and rushing up they speedily laid several of the Mexicans low.

"Now then, fire on them!" shouted Bowie, when the proper range was
obtained; but the Texans had scarcely opened up, when the relief guard
of the Mexicans swung into position behind the Texans, and they found
themselves caught between two fires. They wheeled about, and charged
those behind them, who speedily scattered in every direction, leaving
their dead and dying behind them.

In the meantime, the main body of the Texan army was coming up, and,
arriving at the gully, they drove out the cavalry, killing a dozen or
more of them, and capturing many mules and horses, and a large quantity
of grass, the so-called "silver" which was supposed to fill the
panniers, and which caused many a laugh for long afterward. The loss to
the Texans was small.

In the midst of the conflict one of the officers dashed up to Amos
Radbury. "Lieutenant, several Mexicans are escaping in yonder
direction," he said, pointing with his sword. "You will take a
detachment of twelve men, and go after them."

"I will, major," answered the lieutenant, and saluted. He was soon on
the way, with Poke Stover, and eleven others, for Poke happened to be
near him when the order was given. The Mexicans they had been sent to
capture were four in number, and one of them looked like an officer of
considerable rank.

"I think we can ride them down, Poke," observed Lieutenant Radbury, as
he dashed over the prairies at the full speed of his mustang.

"Well, we kin give 'em a putty tough ride fer it, anyhow," drawled the
frontiersman.

"We must catch them, if possible, before they gain yonder timber land."

"Thet's so. If we don't, it won't be no easy work to locate 'em in the
brush."

The party of thirteen were all fair riders, but for once the number
seemed fated to be really unlucky. Less than quarter of a mile had been
covered when one of the mustangs, going at full speed, stepped into the
hole of some wild animal, and pitched headlong with a broken leg. The
rider behind the one to go down, pitched in on top of him, and in a
thrice there lay on the prairie a mustang so badly injured that he had
to be shot, and two men so bruised that further pursuit for them of the
Mexicans was out of the question.

"Halt!" cried Lieutenant Radbury, and brought the balance of his
command to a standstill. "Are you much hurt, Readwell?"

"I--I reckon not," was the answer, but when Readwell attempted to stand
up he found his foot and back badly strained.

"And you, Alton?"

"My left arm is bruised,--I don't know but what it is broken."

"The mustang is done fer," put in Poke Stover, after examining
Readwell's steed. "Might as well shoot him, and put him out of his
misery."

This was ordered by the lieutenant, and the command carried out on the
spot. The second mustang was slightly injured, but could still be
ridden.

"Both of you had better go back, on the one mustang," said Amos
Radbury. "And, Glenwood, you can go back with them, for fear they may
have trouble with other Mexicans who may be wandering about."

So it was arranged, and this brought the lieutenant's force down to ten
men. The two parties separated without delay, and those in pursuit of
the flying Mexicans went on as fast as before.

But the delay had given the enemy an advantage, and before the Texans
could come within good firing distance the four Mexicans reached the
timber. At the edge they came to a halt.

"They are going to fire on us, leftenant!" cried Stover.

"Down!" cried Amos Radbury, and the Texans had scarcely time to drop to
the sheltered sides of the steeds, a favourite trick with old
frontiersmen, when a volley sounded out, and the bullets whistled over
their heads. Another volley followed; then, as the Texans swept closer,
and fired in return, the Mexicans disappeared into the timber.

Ordinary soldiers would have hesitated about following the Mexicans
into the forest, but all of the Texans were expert in woodcraft, and
thought they could keep out of an ambuscade as well in the woods as out
of it.

"Stover, supposing you and Dilberry go ahead and reconnoitre,"
suggested the lieutenant. "I know I can trust you to keep out of
trouble."

"Certainly, I'll go ahead, if ye want me to," answered Poke Stover, in
his free and easy manner, and rode on with the other soldier mentioned.
As soon as they got into the thickets of the timber, they dismounted,
tied their steeds to a tree, and advanced on foot. In the meantime,
Amos Radbury spread out the balance of his party into a line fifty
yards long, extending from a deep ravine on the right to a steep hill
on the left. He felt that the Mexicans could not climb the hill very
well, for it was covered with large and loose stones, and to take their
ponies down into the ravine would be equally difficult.

The advance of Stover and his companion was necessarily slow, for they
had no desire to be picked off by some Mexican concealed behind a tree.
Yet they kept on for a dozen rods before finding any trace of the
enemy.

"The trail goes toward the ravine," said Stover, presently. "They are
following an old Comanche path."

"Right ye air," answered the other frontiersman. "Years ago, them air
Comanches had a village in this ravine, erbout four miles from hyer."

"I've heard tell on it, Dilberry, though I never sot eyes on it myself.
It war the home o' thet Bison Head, the wust of 'em as ain't dead yet."

Having made certain that the Mexicans had gone straight on for a goodly
distance, the two scouts so reported, and the entire party set off
along the ravine, which at some points was broad and shallow and at
others narrow and deep.

Suddenly the report of a gun rang out, coming from a point where the
ravine made an abrupt turn to the north. Several other reports
followed.

"They must be shooting at something," said Lieutenant Radbury. "But
they are not aiming at us, for no bullets have come this way, so far as
I can ascertain."

"Perhaps they are having a brush with some Indians," suggested another
of the party. "They may--Hello, what's this coming along the trail? A
white mustang, I declare, with a black blaze on his forehead. None o'
those greasers rode that animal, I'm certain on it."

"A white mustang!" cried Amos Radbury, and then, as the animal came
closer, he gave a start. "It's the same, I declare!"

"The same?" queried Poke Stover. "What do ye mean, leftenant?"

"That mustang belongs to me. I was trying to break him in when the call
to arms came. He must have gotten away from my boys. But what is he
doing away out here?"

That question could not be answered just then, and in another moment
the white mustang was out of sight. Then, as the firing ahead had
ceased, the movement forward was continued.




CHAPTER XVIII.

DAN COMES TO GRIEF.


"Well, this looks as if it was going to be a long-winded search."

"So it does, Ralph; but you must remember that a wild mustang who had
been shut up in a corral for a couple of weeks will feel very much like
stretching his legs when he gets out."

"We must have come at least eight miles."

"It's nearer ten."

"And we haven't seen the least sign of him."

"Oh, yes, we have; we discovered that trail."

"But we are not sure it was the mustang's."

"I take for granted that it was, for I do not believe any other pony
passed this way since it rained."

The boys had not gone on straight ahead, but in a grand semicircle,
until the footprints mentioned had been discovered. Now they were
riding over a broad patch of prairie land, with a belt of timber to the
north and another to the south.

"I wonder if there are any Indians in the vicinity," resumed Ralph, a
while later. "I won't care to fall in with some of those Comanches who
made it so hot for us at the cabin."

"Oh, they were chased a good many miles off, Ralph. Besides, they won't
dare to show up here while they know that all of our best fighters are
massing between Gonzales and San Antonio."

"I wonder how matters are going on at the front. I should think our
army would march on Bexar without delay."

"They don't want to make an attack until they are strong enough to
overcome General Cos's force. He may have considerable reinforcements
by this time."

So the boys talked and rode until noon was passed. Both were now
hungry, and coming to a pool in the prairie surrounded by
mesquite-trees and bushes, they drew rein and tethered their ponies,
and sat down to enjoy the midday meal they had brought along.

Pompey had packed for them a tempting hamper, and the boys remained
over the repast rather longer than anticipated. The sun shone bright,
and as there was no wind, the day was pleasant, even though late in the
season.

"I suppose some day all this territory will be built up with towns and
villages," remarked Dan, as he dug his knife-blade into the earth in a
meditative way. "And when it is, I wonder if the boys of that
generation will ever remember what a howling wilderness it was in our
generation."

"A few will, but not many," laughed Ralph. "We are too much of a
go-ahead people to do much looking back." The youngest Radbury leaped
suddenly to his feet. "What's that, Dan?"

The brother sprang up also, and gave a searching glance in the
direction Ralph pointed out.

"Unless I am greatly mistaken, it's the mustang."

"Just what I thought. He seems to be grazing just at the edge of the
timber. How had we best get at him?"

The matter was talked over for several minutes, and they came to the
conclusion to ride to the timber at some point below where the pony was
grazing and then work up behind him.

"Then, if he bolts, it will be for the prairie," said Dan. "That will
give me a chance to lasso him."

The timber was soon gained, and they skirted this with the silence of
Indians until within a hundred yards of the white mustang. Then the
older brother called another halt.

"Now you take the north side, and I'll keep to the south," said Dan.
"Have you got your lasso ready?"

Ralph had, and it was decided that he should make the first throw, but
not until Dan was prepared to make the second.

With great caution the two boys advanced to the point agreed upon. Then
they rode out to where the lassoes could be used freely.

In the meantime the mustang was grazing peacefully, utterly unconscious
of their presence in the vicinity. But now, as they drew still closer,
he stopped cropping the grass and raised his head as if to listen.

"Throw!" cried Dan, and the lasso left Ralph's hand with a whizzing
sound. A few seconds later Dan made his own cast.

As luck would have it, both landed over the mustang's head, but while
Dan's was drawn tight with great quickness, Ralph's remained loose, so
that in a twinkle the mustang shook it off, and then of course the line
tightened around Dan's lariat instead.

[Illustration: "'HOLD BACK!' YELLED DAN."]

"Hold back!" yelled Dan, as he saw Ralph sit bewildered in the saddle.
"Run off to the other side!"

The younger Radbury attempted to obey, but as quick as a flash the
mustang turned and rushed forward, bringing the lasso around Ralph's
own steed. Then came a snap of the lariat, and Ralph went down, with
the mustang on top of him.

All this took scarcely more time than to describe it, and now Dan found
himself holding the white mustang alone, with Ralph's lariat end
entangled in his own. Then off went the wild animal, kicking and
plunging in a desperate fashion, which even the tightened leather about
his neck did not appear to hinder. His course was straight for the
timber, and he went on dragging Dan's pony after him. It is true the
pony might have held back, but he was not well broken for such a
purpose, having participated in but few round-ups.

"Look out! You'll be killed!" yelled Ralph, as he struggled to get out
from under his pony. The wind had been knocked out of him, but
otherwise he was uninjured.

Dan scarcely heard him, so busy was he trying to bring the white
mustang to a halt. Soon he disappeared into the timber, and then Ralph
arose, mounted the pony once more, and came after him.

The white mustang did not enter the forest far before the lariat around
his neck began to hurt him. He tried to circle around several trees,
and thereby cut himself short to such an extent that he was in great
danger of choking to death.

"Hold my pony!" shouted Dan to Ralph, and slipped to the ground. The
free end of the lariat was passed around a tree and tied, and Dan
sprang forward toward the white mustang, who was now acting as if ready
to give up the battle.

"Easy now, easy," said Dan, soothingly, and watching his chance, he
hopped up on the mustang's back. Immediately the animal bucked and
plunged, trying his best to throw his rider. The lariat was depriving
him of his wind, and of a sudden he stopped short and trembled, as if
about to fall.

Not wishing to strangle the animal now he had caught him, Dan cried to
Ralph to come up and help hobble the steed, that he might walk but not
run. At the same time he continued to talk soothingly to the mustang
and patted him on the neck. Then, fearing he would breathe his last if
the lariat remained as it was, he drew his knife and cut the leather.

In a twinkle the whole manner of the mustang changed, and, before Ralph
could reach his big brother's side, the steed was off like a streak of
lightning, with Dan clinging fast to his neck. Over some low brush the
pair went, and then under some tall pines and out of sight.

"Hi! hi!" cried Ralph, but Dan had too much to do to call back to him.
On and on went the mustang, and the youth could neither stop him, nor
did he dare try to leap to the ground, for fear of a kick from one of
those flying hoofs. It was such a wild ride as Dan never forgot.

By instinct the white mustang seemed to know the best course to pursue,
and went on where the trees were high branched and tolerably far apart.
This was lucky for Dan, for had the limbs been low he must certainly
have been knocked off and killed. He bent as low as he could.

"Go it, if you must," he thought, grimly. "You'll get tired some time.
But I hope you don't go all the way to Bexar."

Fully two miles were covered, when the white mustang came out of the
woods at the edge of a ravine. He ran like the wind until the very edge
was reached, then stopped short all in an instant.

Dan was holding on with might and main, but no boy's grip could
withstand such a shock, and up flew his body, and over the pony's head
he sailed. Then he felt himself going downward, toward the bottom of
the ravine. Some brushwood scratched his hands and face, there followed
a great thump,--and then he knew no more.




CHAPTER XIX.

THE CAVE IN THE RAVINE.


When Dan came to his senses all was dark around him. The sun had set
over the timber in the west, and scarcely a sound broke the stillness
of the night.

For several minutes the youth could not imagine where he was or what
had happened. Then slowly the realisation of the events just passed
dawned upon his muddled brain.

He tried to pull himself together and sit up, but the effort was so
painful he was glad enough to give it up and rest just as he lay. The
brushwood had saved him from death, but it had not saved him from a
nasty fall on the flat rocks which rested at the bottom of the ravine
at this particular point.

"It must be at least two or three hours since I went over," he thought,
dismally. "I wonder what became of the mustang, and where Ralph and the
ponies are?"

He tried to see the face of the silver watch he carried,--an heirloom
from his mother,--but it was too dark, and he had to give it up. Then
he attempted to call out, but his voice was so feeble no one standing
fifty yards off would have heard it. And Ralph was miles and miles
away, hopelessly lost in his hunt after his missing brother.

Not a bone had been broken nor a muscle strained to any extent, yet it
was almost daybreak before Dan felt like getting on his feet, and in
the meantime he had fallen into a doze and dreamed all manner of
horrible dreams. When he awoke, his mouth was parched for water, and
his first move was in the direction of the wet portion of the ravine,
beyond the rocks.

As it was the fall of the year, the night had been cold, and after
procuring a drink he was glad enough to sit down again beside a fire
made of leaves and such small brush as was handy. He was now hungry,
but nothing was at hand to satisfy the cravings of the inner man. His
gun had been left behind, but in his belt still rested his
hunting-knife,--something he had taken to carrying constantly since the
brush with the Comanches.

Dan could not help but wonder what had become of Ralph, and wished that
he had some firearm by which he might discharge a shot as a signal.

Slowly the morning wore away, and by noon the lad felt that he must
make a move. "I'll get out of the ravine first," he thought, but this
was no easy matter, for the sides were steep and he was still too weak
to exert himself in climbing.

Presently he imagined that he heard, at a great distance, the firing of
a volley of shots. To make sure he was right, he laid on the ground and
listened. Soon the volley was repeated, and a number of single reports
followed.

"There is a fight on of some sort," he thought, but could not locate
the direction of the shots with any degree of accuracy. "I trust Ralph
is out of danger."

He walked along the ravine, looking for some convenient spot where he
might ascend to the level of the timber beyond, until he came to where
there was a split in the hollow. Here, in the centre of the ravine, was
a huge pile of rocks, overgrown with a tangle of vines and thorns,
which hid a cave of fair dimensions. In those days this cave was known
to the Indians as the Haunted Rock. It is said that many a Mexican
trader was lured there, only to be killed and robbed.

As Dan was passing the cave he saw, with much surprise, a Mexican
soldier leading two mustangs into the opening. Each saw the other at
the same time, and instantly the Mexican set up a shout in Spanish,
and, letting go of the horses, levelled a pistol at the boy's head.

Dan did not understand the Spanish, but he understood the motion of the
soldier.

"Don't shoot!" he cried. "I am unarmed!" And he held up his hands to
verify his statement.

"You surrender?" asked the Mexican, in broken English.

"I suppose I'll have to," answered Dan. "But what are you doing here,
and why do you wish to make me a prisoner? I am not a soldier."

At this the Mexican shrugged his bony shoulders and called out again in
Spanish, whereupon three other Mexicans showed themselves at the mouth
of the cave.

"Come in here, boy," said one of the three, who was evidently a
captain, by his uniform. "Are you alone?"

"I am," answered Dan, as he entered the mouth of the cave.

"Where are the soldiers?"

"What soldiers?"

"The rascally Texans who were after us."

"I know nothing of any soldiers, captain."

"You are telling me the truth?" And the Mexican captain turned a pair
of piercing black eyes on the youth.

"I am, sir; I have seen no soldiers for a week or more, and they were
nowhere about here."

Dan's frank manner apparently impressed the Mexican officer favourably,
for he breathed more freely. He paused for a moment, as if in deep
thought.

"What brought you here, boy?"

In a few simple words Dan told his tale. When he mentioned the white
mustang, two of the Mexicans smiled.

"I saw him," said one. "He was running like the wind, directly for
those soldiers, too."

"And who are the soldiers you speak about?" asked Dan.

"It is not for you to ask questions," answered the captain, abruptly.
"Sit down on yonder rock and keep quiet. A noise might betray us, and
then it might become necessary to put a bullet in you."

As there was no help for it, Dan walked still farther into the cave,
and sank down on the rock pointed out. He noted that there were but
four of the Mexicans, and that each had a mustang that seemed to be
much exhausted.

"I reckon I am worse off than I was before," was his mental comment,
after reviewing the situation. "These chaps are evidently in hiding,
and they won't let me go for fear of exposing them. Well, I sha'n't
stay any longer than I have to."

In the matter of eating, the Mexicans were as badly off as the youth.
"You have had nothing, eh?" said one. "Well, we are just as hungry, and
perhaps more so. It cannot be helped, and we must make the best of it."

"But we can't remain here and starve to death," insisted Dan.

At this the Mexican drew up his face into a scowl and turned away. To
comfort themselves, the men smoked cigarettes incessantly, being used
to the tobacco habit from childhood. Dan had as yet found no comfort in
the use of the weed.

While two of the Mexicans remained in the cave to care for the
mustangs, the others went out on guard, one stationing himself just
above the opening and the other below. The numerous rocks afforded both
excellent hiding-places.

From those in care of the mustangs Dan learned but little, yet, during
the Mexicans' talk, the youth managed to gain a bit of information
which led him to believe that there had been a battle, and the four had
become separated from their companions and had been pursued. The
Mexicans thought to remain in the cave until night, and then escape
under cover of the darkness.

As the hours went by Dan became more hungry, and with this empty
feeling came one of desperation. He must escape, be the cost what it
might.

"If only I could collar one of their mustangs, and get away on it," he
thought. "Perhaps I might find those soldiers and have the Mexicans
made prisoners."

The more he thought of this plan the more did it appeal to him, and
then he cast about for some means of putting it into operation.

The chance came shortly before sundown. A distant shot was heard, and
the two Mexicans in the cave hurried to join their companions, to learn
what it might mean. Dan had cast himself down as if asleep, and one of
the soldiers did not, therefore, pick up his gun as he hurried past the
entrance of the cave.

No sooner were the men out of sight, than Dan leaped upon the back of
the nearest mustang, and turned him straight for the entrance. He made
the animal do his best from the start, yet, as he passed the entrance
to the cave, he hung out from the saddle and managed to pick up the gun
that rested against the wall.

"He is escaping!" cried one of the Mexicans, in Spanish, and leaped in
front of the mustang. The next instant the horse knocked him flat and
galloped over his body.

The Mexicans were bewildered, for, on the brink of the ravine, one of
them had caught sight of several Texan soldiers in the distance. If
they fired on Dan, they would betray themselves, and, if they did not,
the youth would surely escape.

"After him!" cried the captain, and two of the soldiers made a dash for
the boy. But they might have as well tried to catch the wind, for the
mustang was fresh from his rest, and Dan made him do his level best.

Then along the ravine sped animal and boy, Dan riding as never before,
and expecting a shot at any moment. He knew not where he was going, and
hardly cared, so long as he made his escape from the Mexicans.




CHAPTER XX.

FLIGHT AND PURSUIT.


Lieutenant Radbury's party had come up to the ravine at a point
opposite to the cave, about half an hour before Dan attempted to make
his escape.

"I see nothing of the Mexicans here," he remarked to Poke Stover, as he
swept the ravine from one end to the other with his well-trained eye.

"No more do I see anything," answered the old frontiersman. "But they
may be behind yonder rocks, leftenant. If ye say the word, I'll climb
down and scout around a bit."

"There is a cave among yonder rocks," put in another of the Texans. "It
is called Haunted Rock by the Indians. The Comanches used to use it as
a meeting-place when they were out for plunder. I've often heard old Si
Bilkens tell about it."

"I have heard of such a cave," answered Amos Radbury. "If the Mexicans
knew of it, they might think it just the right sort of a hiding-place.
Yes, Poke, you can scout around. But be careful. They may be watching
for a shot."

The frontiersman nodded, to show that he understood, and went off
immediately on foot, it being impossible to go down the ravine's side
on mustang-back, no matter how sure-footed the animal might be.

The descent into the ravine took time, and Poke Stover was still some
distance from the cave's entrance when he heard a commotion among the
bushes and rocks.

"A mustang a-comin' this way," he muttered to himself. "And somebody
ridin', too. It must be one of them dirty greasers trying to git away.
I'll cut him short."

He raised his rifle, and stepped out into the open to get a better aim.
Then of a sudden his weapon dropped to his side.

"Dan! Dan Radbury! What in thunder are you doing out here?"

At first Dan did not hear the call, for the hoof-strokes of the mustang
made considerable noise on the rocks over which he was clattering. But
then the youth caught sight of the old frontiersman and his face beamed
with joy.

"Poke Stover! and is it really you?" he exclaimed.

"Yes. What are you doing here?"

"I just escaped from four Mexican soldiers, who are hiding in a cave up
the ravine."

"The greasers we are after!"

"Are you after them? They said something about being followed."

"Yes, I am after them, and so is your father, who is in command of our
party."

"Father! Where is he?"

"At the top of the ravine--in that direction," and Poke Stover pointed
it out. "He jest sent me out to do a bit o' scoutin'."

"To locate the greasers?"

"Yes."

"I can tell you all about them. They are at the cave on guard. I took
this mustang from them, and also this musket."

"Then thar won't be no need fer me to scout any more, Dan, and we might
as well join the rest," answered Poke Stover. "We must capture them
greasers."

"How did you come to go after them?"

Stover told the particulars as they were climbing out of the ravine,
Dan leading the mustang by the head. In a short while, the youth was
with his father.

Of course the parent was astonished to find his son in this wilderness,
so many miles from the ranch home, and Dan had to tell his story in
detail.

"I am glad you are safe," said Amos Radbury. "But what of Ralph?"

"I can tell you nothing of him, father."

"We saw the white mustang twice, but nothing of him," added Amos
Radbury, thoughtfully. And then he decided to go on a hunt for his boy
as soon as the affair of the four Mexicans was settled.

To the others Dan pointed out the exact location of the cave, and the
entire party drew within a hundred yards of the opening, without
exposing themselves. The Mexicans, also, kept out of sight.

"We are now eleven to four," said Amos Radbury. "I believe if they
understood the matter, they would surrender, rather than risk being
shot."

"If they won't surrender I know what you can easily do," returned Dan.

"And what is that?"

"Starve them out. They are all as hungry as bears,--and so am I, for
the matter of that."

"An excellent idea. But if you are hungry, here are rations in the
saddle-bags," and Dan was speedily supplied with sufficient food to
stay his hunger for the time being.

One of the party, who could talk Spanish fluently, was now ordered to
show a white handkerchief tied to a stick, and this he did, moving to
the very edge of the ravine for that purpose. At first, owing,
probably, to the darkness, the Mexicans did not see the flag of truce,
but at last the captain came forward, and demanded to know what was
wanted.

"We want you to surrender," said the Texan.

"We will not do so, and you will attack us at your peril," was the
Mexican's sharp reply.

"You are but four, while we number twelve."

"We will fight, even so, seГ±or. A Mexican never surrenders."

"What if we starve you out?"

"You cannot do that. Still, you may try it, if you wish," continued the
_capitan_ hurriedly. If the Americans tried starving them out, it
would give them time in which to perfect some plan for escape.

The talk continued for several minutes, and then the Texan came back
with the information that the enemy would agree to nothing.

"He's willing to be starved out," went on the ranger. "But I think he
wants the chance to get away in the darkness."

"We will draw closer to the cave as the darkness settles down,"
answered Amos Radbury. This was the first time, as an officer, that he
had been sent out on a commission, and he was resolved not to fail.

The night came on swiftly. Evidently a storm was brewing, for not a
star lit up the heavens.

"We'll catch it, in more ways than one, soon," said Stover to Dan,
suggestively.

The Texans had had a small fire, but now this was deserted, and the
party moved down into the ravine on foot.

Just as the first rain of the coming storm began to fall, one of the
men of the party set up a shout.

"There they go!"

He was right. The Mexicans were making a mad dash for liberty up the
ravine, the four men on three mustangs.

"Fire at them!" ordered Lieutenant Radbury, and instantly half a dozen
shots rang out. None of the enemy was hit, but two of the mustangs
pitched headlong, carrying three of the riders down with them. The
fourth Mexican, the captain, continued on his way, forcing his steed
along at a greater pace than ever.

Before those on the ground could rise, they found themselves
surrounded.

"Surrender!" cried Lieutenant Radbury. "Surrender, or we must shoot you
down!"

"I surrender!" cried one of the Mexicans. "No shoot me!" And he held up
his hands.

But the others were game, so to speak, and, rising, they discharged
their muskets, and continued their flight on foot. They had scarcely
gone a dozen steps, when the Texans opened fire again, and one dropped,
shot through the heart. The second man was wounded, but kept on and
disappeared up the side of the ravine, in a thick pine brake, where all
was now pitch dark.

"Make that man a close prisoner!" shouted Lieutenant Radbury to two of
his followers. "Come on!" and he dashed away after the Mexican captain.
Several, including Poke Stover and Dan, followed him, while others went
after the fellow in the pine brake.

It was largely a go-as-you-please hunt, for, as mentioned before, the
army was not yet sworn in, and every man felt that he could do about as
he wished.

Before leaving the Mexican who had surrendered, Lieutenant Radbury had
appropriated his horse, consequently he readily outdistanced those who
followed. But he could not catch his man, although he got close enough
to note that the fellow left the ravine where there was a cut upward,
and took to the timber on the north.

"We can't follow him in this darkness," said Amos Radbury. "We will
have to wait until morning. It is raining now, and probably there will
be an easy trail to follow."

They returned to the others, and then the entire party went into camp
in the cave the Mexicans had just vacated, the horses being also
brought in, to keep them out of the storm, for it was now raining in
torrents. A fire was kindled and a warm supper prepared.

"Two out o' four," declared Poke Stover. "That wasn't so bad, after
all."

The captured Mexican was questioned, and said the missing officer was
Captain Arguez, from Santa Cruz.

"He belongs to a most noble family," said the prisoner. "He will never
give up."

"He will if I lay my hands on him," said Amos Radbury, quietly.

Both father and son were much worried over Ralph, and wondered what had
become of him. It was agreed that while looking for Captain Arguez they
should hunt for the boy also.




CHAPTER XXI.

WHAT HAPPENED TO RALPH.


"I'm lost, and that is all there is to it!"

Ralph sat on the back of his mustang the picture of dismay. He had
tried to follow his big brother and had failed, and had spent the night
on the bank of the ravine, but at a point several miles from the cave.

Ralph was not nearly as well versed in woodcraft as his big brother,
and he hardly knew how to turn or what to do. All about him was one
vast wilderness, and the silence and loneliness made him shiver in
spite of himself.

"If I only knew what had become of him," he said, over and over. "But
perhaps he is dead!" And the tears started to his eyes.

He had eaten nothing since the evening before, but he was too worried
now to satisfy the cravings of his stomach. He had his own mustang and
that of Dan with him, and they were feasting on the rich grass close at
hand. Procuring a drink at a stream near by, he watered the animals and
set forth once again on the hunt.

The day drifted by swiftly, and Ralph found neither Dan nor the way out
of the belt of timber. He was now weak from so much travelling, and was
compelled to rest and partake of the scant lunch still left in the
hamper Pompey had provided.

As night came on so did the storm, and with the first fall of rain he
sought shelter under some overhanging rocks near the top of one side of
the ravine.

It was anything but a pleasant position, and no wonder Ralph wished
himself safe at home again.

The storm increased until the rain came down in a deluge, forming a
good-sized stream in the basin of the ravine. Ralph was thankful that
there was but little thunder and lightning.

Having found a dry place in a corner of the rocks, he was on the point
of falling into a doze when a clatter not far off aroused him.

"It must be Dan," he thought. "Dan! Dan!" he cried, starting up. "Is
that you?"

At the sound of his voice the clatter ceased, and only the violence of
the storm broke the stillness. Then Ralph called again, that his
brother might not go astray.

"Who calls?" The voice was a strange one, and the words were spoken
with a Spanish accent. Ralph fell back in dismay, but it was too late,
and soon the newcomer showed himself, riding a jaded steed, and
carrying a long horse-pistol in his hand.

"Ha, boy, are you alone?" demanded the man, who was none other than
Captain Arguez.

"I am," answered Ralph.

"And what brought you here?"

"I was out looking for a lost mustang, and missed my way."

"Ha, that is what the other boy told me!" muttered Captain Arguez, half
savagely.

"The other boy? Then you have seen my brother?"

"Yes."

"Where is he now?"

"I cannot tell you. He ran away, taking one of my soldier's mustangs."

"But I don't understand," stammered Ralph. "Are you a Mexican army
officer?"

"I am."

"And Dan was with you?"

"I think he fell in with us by accident, and he got away just as we
were having a brush with some of your accursed Americans." The Mexican
captain looked around suspiciously. "You are quite sure you are alone?"

"Yes, seГ±or."

"You have two ponies."

"One belongs to my brother. He got on the white mustang,--the one that
ran away,--and that is the last I saw of him. You have no idea where he
is now?"

"Probably with the Texans who attacked my party."

"And where are they?"

Captain Arguez's brow grew dark. "You are asking too many questions for
a mere boy," he growled. "I do not know where they are, nor do I care,
so long as they do not bother me any more," and in this he spoke the
exact truth. He cared nothing for his men, and wished only to get back
to San Antonio in safety.

The Mexican had had nothing to eat throughout the day, and was glad
enough to avail himself of what little was left in the hamper. Then he
put his mustang beside the others, and made himself as comfortable as
possible near Ralph.

"Do you know the way to Bexar?" he demanded.

Ralph shook his head. "I don't know the way anywhere; I am totally
lost."

"From whence do you come?"

"From the Guadalupe River, at least thirty or forty miles from here."

"Then I must be almost as far from Bexar?"

"Yes; perhaps farther."

"It is too bad! I was foolish. But let that pass, what is done cannot
be undone."

Captain Arguez had relapsed into Spanish, so Ralph did not understand
his last words. He remained silent, wondering what the officer would
say next. But instead of talking, the Mexican rolled a cigarette, and
began smoking vigorously.

Ralph was sleepy, and in spite of his repeated attempts to keep awake,
he soon dozed off, and then fell into a sound slumber, from which he
did not rouse up until daylight.

The captain was asleep, snoring loudly, and with a half-smoked
cigarette between his fingers. At first Ralph thought to leave without
disturbing him, but no sooner had the boy risen to his feet than the
Mexican opened his eyes and stared about him.

"So it is morning?" he muttered. "Very good. Let us be on our way."

"I do not know which way to go," returned Ralph.

"That is easily answered, boy. You will go with me."

"With you?"

"Yes. I am lonely and want company."

"But you are going to San Antonio de Bexar."

"You are right. It is an ancient Mexican town, and there you will be
quite safe."

"But I don't want to go there,--I want to go home."

"You will be better off with me; anyway, you must come on. If I let you
out of my sight, and you fall in with those Americans, you will betray
me to them. Come, we must lose no time."

Ralph attempted to argue, but the Mexican officer would not listen, and
soon they were in the saddle, riding side by side, and with the extra
mustang behind. Captain Arguez had noted how the water was flowing in
the ravine, and now he crossed the hollow, and struck out down the
water-course, but on the opposite side to where the Texans had
encamped.

It must be confessed that Ralph felt more downhearted than ever. It was
true he had wished for company, but this Mexican was not desirable, and
the thought of being taken to the fortified town filled him with
dismay.

Yet there was no help for it, and he rode along as directed, and thus
they journeyed for many miles, until they struck a road leading
directly into San Antonio. Here Captain Arguez met the Mexican who had
escaped into the brush, and the two compared notes, the result of which
was that both, along with Ralph, made a long dГ©tour to the north and
the west.

Once on the way the party passed several Indians, but no words were
exchanged. In this party was Big Foot, the Comanche, who had been
nursed at the Radbury ranch, but Ralph did not recognise the red man,
for he was too far away.

The storm had let up a little during the day, but now as night came on
it broke forth once more, as furiously as ever.

"This just suits me," said Captain Arguez. "It will wet us to the skin,
to be sure, but it will put the Texans off their guard."

Once during the afternoon Ralph had thought to escape, but the captain
had threatened to shoot him on the spot, and the attempt had amounted
to nothing. The boy's weapons had been taken from him, and the mustang
belonging to Dan had been appropriated by the Mexican private.

The private knew the vicinity of San Antonio well, and said they had
better halt at a certain gully until two or three in the morning. This
was done, and by four o'clock they were safely inside of San Antonio
without the Texan pickets being the wiser, the rain and darkness
proving the Mexicans' best ally.

As soon as he was safe, Captain Arguez went to headquarters to report,
taking the private and Ralph with him. Ralph was put in a side room of
the quarters, and left under guard for several hours.

"We have resolved to keep you here for the present," said the soldier,
who came to him at last.

"Keep me here!" gasped Ralph. "What for? Surely you don't count me a
prisoner of war?"

"Captain Arguez is convinced that your brother was a spy, and that you
will help him if you can. It will, therefore, be safer for us to keep
you here."