This was all the satisfaction Ralph could get, and soon after he was
marched away to the San Antonio jail, there to remain for some time to
come.




CHAPTER XXII.

THE ATTACK ON SAN ANTONIO.


"This looks like a hopeless task, father."

"So it does, Dan, but while I am willing to give up looking for that
Mexican captain, I am not willing to give up looking for Ralph."

"Nor I. But the question is, which way shall we turn next?"

Amos Radbury shook his head slowly. The party had been out in the
timber two days, and, though they had followed several trails, it had
availed them nothing.

"Perhaps Ralph went back to the ranch," suggested Poke Stover.

"We found no trail leading in that direction," said Lieutenant Radbury.

"That is true, but he might have gone back, even so, leftenant."

Amos Radbury shook his head slowly. "You only wish to give me a little
encouragement, Poke," he said, with a sad smile. "I am afraid he has
fallen into the hands of the Indians."

"Talk about Indians, here come several Indians now," put in Dan, who
was riding beside his father. "They look like Comanches, too."

The red men, who were three in number, had appeared at the brow of a
small hill. Now, on discovering the whites, they seemed on the point of
turning to run away.

One, however, gave the Texans a searching look, and then his face lit
up with satisfaction. He came running toward Dan, holding up both hands
in token of peace.

"Big Foot!" exclaimed the youth, as he recognised the Indian.

"Good Dan," answered the Indian. "I glad I see you. How! How!" and he
looked at Amos Radbury and the others.

"I reckon this is the critter ye nursed at the ranch," remarked Stover.

"It is," answered Dan. He turned to the Indian. "So you are glad to see
me, eh?"

"Yes, much glad." The Indian looked at one and another of the party.
"Where little brudder Raf?"

"Ralph is missing," put in Lieutenant Radbury; and then added, quickly,
"Do you know anything of him, Big Foot?"

The Indian nodded slowly.

"You do!"

"Yes, see little Raf wid Mexican soldiers."

"With the Mexican soldiers!" cried father and son, simultaneously. "You
are certain?"

The Indian nodded again.

"When was this?"

As well as he could, with his limited knowledge of English, Big Foot
told of the meeting with Captain Arguez, the Mexican private, and
Ralph. "They all go into Bexar," he concluded.

"Then Ralph is a prisoner of the enemy," said Amos Radbury.

"But will they hold a mere boy like that?" snorted Poke Stover. "It
seems to me thet ain't human nater, nohow."

"The Mexicans will do anything to harass the Texans," answered the
lieutenant, quietly. "I don't know but what I would rather have Ralph a
prisoner in Bexar than lost in the timber or in the hands of some
treacherous Indians."

"If only we could get into Bexar after him," sighed Dan.

"We'll get in pretty soon," returned another member of the party. "I
heard old Ben Milam say that if our troops didn't start pretty soon
he'd form an attack on his own account."

Big Foot was anxious to learn what all the trouble was about, and Dan
explained to the Indian. At the conclusion of the talk Big Foot stared
stolidly at Dan for fully ten seconds.

"You say so, Big Foot go into Bexar an' hunt out little Raf," he said
at last.

"Oh, will you?" cried Dan. "It will be very kind."

"Big Foot not so kind as Good Dan," returned the Indian. "Yes, will go
right now. Where Big Foot find Good Dan if have news for him?"

"At the camp of the Texan army," answered Dan, before his father could
speak. Then he turned to his parent. "Father, you must let me go with
you. I am sure I am old enough to fight."

"Why, Dan, you are but a boy!"

"I think I can fight as well as some of the men," said the youth,
boldly. "I am a pretty good shot, and I wouldn't be a coward and run,"
he added, earnestly. "I don't want to go back to the ranch alone."

"But life in the army is no easy thing, my son. We may have untold
hardships before this struggle comes to an end."

"I am willing to take what comes. Please say I can go."

Amos Radbury could not resist his son's appeal, especially as he was
glad to have the boy where he might have an eye on him. So it was
settled that Dan should accompany his parent; and thus did the youth
become a soldier to fight for the liberty of Texas.

A while later Big Foot left, stating that he would endeavour to get
into San Antonio that night, and the party under the lieutenant rode
off to the camp of the Texan army. Here Amos Radbury reported what he
had done, and there, for the time being, matters rested.

In the meantime, the Texan army had moved slightly closer to San
Antonio de Bexar, but, as yet, nothing had been done toward storming
the town. Volunteers came and went, and the army lacked so much of
complete organisation that the leaders hesitated upon opening an attack
upon such a force as General Cos had under him.

"If we lose, the Texan cause is lost for ever," said one of the
leaders. "We cannot afford to put up the stake at this time."

Bowie, Crockett, and other scouts were off doing duty of another kind,
otherwise the attack might have opened without delay. But now the old
veterans, especially those of the war of 1812, became impatient, and
among these was old Ben Milam, previously mentioned. One day Milam
could contain himself no longer, and, rushing out in front of the
general headquarters, he swung his hat into the air, and shouted at the
top of his lungs, "Who will follow old Ben Milam into Bexar?"

"I will!" "I will!" came from a score of throats, and soon over a
hundred men were gathered around the old fighter. In the number were
Amos Radbury, Poke Stover, and a party of scouts who had served under
Crockett. Dan, of course, followed his father.

As soon as it was learned how enthusiastic the soldiers were, it was
decided that Milam's party should meet on the following day at an old
mill near the camp. At this mill the company of volunteers numbered
exactly three hundred and one, and this force was divided into two
divisions, the first under Milam and the second under Colonel Frank W.
Johnson.

"We will move on the town about three o'clock in the morning," said
Colonel Milam, and this was done, the first division going down Acequia
Street and the second taking to Soledad Street. Both streets led
directly to the main plaza of San Antonio, and each was heavily
barricaded and swept by General Cos's artillery.

The two divisions moved with caution, but as they crept along between
the low-lying stone houses a Mexican sentinel saw the body under
Johnson, and gave the alarm.

"We are discovered!" came the cry, and the next instant the rifle of
Deaf Smith spoke up, and the sentinel fell dead where he had stood.

Further attempts at concealment were now useless, and both divisions
rushed into the town as far as possible. Johnson's command went as far
as the house of the vice-governor, Veramendi, and here sought shelter
from the Mexicans, who swarmed down upon them in great numbers.

"Dan, take care of yourself," cried Lieutenant Radbury, who with his
son had joined Colonel Milam's division. "Don't run any risks if you
can help it."

"I'll stick close to you, father," answered Dan.

They were going down Acequia Street on a dead run, every Texan firing
as rapidly as he could reload.

"The plaza! The plaza!" was the cry; but that square was still a
hundred yards off, when the Mexican garrison appeared, with their
artillery, as if ready to sweep the Texans from the face of the earth.
Then came the cry, "To shelter!" and Milam's men, about a hundred and
forty strong, broke into the nearest mansion, which was that of De La
Garcia.

"Drop!" The cry came from Poke Stover, and he called to Amos Radbury,
as he saw a Mexican in the act of picking off the lieutenant from the
garden of a residence opposite to that of De La Garcia. He raised his
gun to fire on the man, but the weapon was empty.

Dan heard the cry and noted where Stover was looking. He, too, saw the
Mexican about to fire on his father, and his heart leaped into his
throat. Then, by instinct more than reason, he raised his own gun and
blazed away. Both guns spoke up at once, and Dan saw the Mexican throw
up his arms and fall backward. Then his father dropped like a lump of
lead.

"Father!" cried the boy, hoarsely, and knelt beside his parent. "Are
you hit?"

"I--I guess not," stammered Lieutenant Radbury. Then he passed his hand
over his ear and withdrew it covered with blood. "But I reckon he
nipped me."

"That's wot he did," put in Stover. "But Dan plugged him for it," he
went on, with much satisfaction.

The Texans got into the house as soon as possible, much to the surprise
and consternation of the family, who protested in vain at the
intrusion. Once within, doors and windows were barricaded, and the
residence turned into a veritable fort.

It was now growing daylight, and without delay the Mexicans began a
furious onslaught. The crack of musketry and the roaring of cannon was
incessant, but the Texans were wise enough to keep out of sight, and
but little damage to human life was done. The Texans stationed
themselves at convenient loopholes and calmly picked off every Mexican
soldier who showed himself within range.

"I wonder how the second division is making out," said Lieutenant
Radbury, as the day wore away and the cracking of firearms continued.
"They seem to be doing about as much firing as we are."

"They are at the vice-governor's house," announced one of the other
officers. "We could join them were it not that the greasers are
sweeping Soledad Street with their twelve-pounder."

Rations were scarce and water was more so, yet the men under Milam did
not complain. They had come to take the city, and they meant to do it.

"I hope Ralph won't suffer through this," remarked Dan, while on guard
at one of the loopholes, with his father not far away.

"We must trust for the best," answered Amos Radbury, and breathed a
silent prayer that all might go well with his younger offspring.

As night came on it was resolved to dig a trench across Soledad Street,
so that the two divisions might communicate with each other. This was
dangerous work, for the Mexicans kept a strict guard and fired every
time a head was exposed to view. The trench was started at each end and
was completed long before daybreak. While this was going on the
Mexicans also dug a trench, hoping thereby to catch the Texans in a
cross-fire, but the scheme failed.




CHAPTER XXIII.

THE SURRENDER OF THE CITY.


"If only I was at liberty once again!"

Ralph had said this to himself over and over, as he sat on the hard
wooden bench which served him both for a seat and a couch in the little
stone cell which he occupied in the San Antonio lockup.

Several days had gone by, and no one had come to see the youth but his
jailer, who delivered food twice a day, morning and afternoon. The
jailer spoke nothing but Spanish, so communications between the two
were limited.

Ralph often wondered what had become of Dan and the white mustang. Was
his brother lost in the timber, or had he fallen in with the Indians?

There was a tiny window in the cell, high up over the couch. From this
Ralph could get a slight view of the river and of a patch of sky, and
that was all.

But one afternoon, when all was quiet, Ralph noticed a shadow at the
window, and, gazing up, made out part of an Indian face stationed
there. Quickly he stood on the bench.

"Big Foot,----" he began, when the Indian let out a low hiss of
warning.

"Soldier hear Raf," said the Indian, in a whisper. "Me come to find
you,--tell fadder and Good Dan would do dat."

"Father and Dan!" returned the boy. "Then they are together?"

"Yes, both in big army outside of dis place. Big Foot say he find Raf.
Must go now. Maybe save Raf soon. You watch!"

And then the Indian disappeared as quickly as he had come. By some
means known only to himself, he had found out where Ralph was located,
and had watched for thirty hours on a stretch for a chance to
communicate with the lad. He had caught a sentinel off guard, and had
mounted to the window by means of a lariat thrown around one of the
bars of the opening. As he leaped down, the sentinel turned in time to
catch him winding up his lariat.

"What are you doing there?" demanded the Mexican.

"Indian squaw in dare?" asked Big Foot, meekly.

"No, we do not keep squaws here," answered the Mexican. "Begone, or
I'll shoot you;" and then, as the Comanche loped off, he resumed his
cigarette smoking.

The coming of Big Foot comforted Ralph greatly, for he now knew that
Dan was with their father, and that both were in the army, outside of
San Antonio. That night he slept soundly.

He awoke to hear loud firing, showing that a battle of some kind had
started. The firing continued, and, before long, the lockup was struck
by a cannon-ball, although little damage was done. The attack created a
great confusion, and Ralph was left largely to himself.

At night, while the sounds of firing still kept up, Big Foot appeared,
with both his lariat and a short iron bar. Mounting to the window, in
the gloom, he called Ralph, and passed him the bar.

"Break window and drop out," he whispered. "Big Foot wait for you close
to river."

He fell back, and with the bar Ralph set to work to liberate himself.
The masonry of the window was old and loosened, and he soon had two of
the bars out, leaving a space just large enough to admit of 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
steadily.

He felt his way along from the room in which he found himself to the
one adjoining. From this a stairs led upward, and he went to the upper
floor. Here, from a window, he saw part of the fighting, and as the
morning came, he saw still more.

The noise below kept on steadily, and as daylight advanced, the firing
on all sides became almost incessant. In the midst of this, there came
a loud hurrah, and a detachment of Texans, under Lieutenant W.
McDonald, ran out into the street, and battered down the door of the
very house where Ralph was in hiding.

"Hullo, a boy!" shouted one of the Texans, as he caught sight of Ralph.
And then he continued, quickly, "By George! ain't you Amos Radbury's
youngster?"

"I am," answered Ralph. "And you are Mr. Martin, from the Pecan Grove
Ranch."

"Right, my lad. How in the world did you come here?"

"I just escaped from the lockup, and was trying to reach the Texan
lines. Do you know anything of my father?"

"Do I? Why, he's in the house just below here, along with your brother.
We came---- Back, or you'll be shot!"

Ralph retreated, and none too soon, for a second later several bullets
entered the window and buried themselves in the wall opposite. The
Mexicans were firing from several roofs in the neighbourhood. This fire
was returned with such good interest that soon the Mexicans were as
glad to get out of sight as those who opposed them.

Ralph wished to join his father and Dan without delay, but Mr. Martin
held him back.

"Wait until dark," said the settler. "You are fairly safe here, and it
would be foolhardy to expose yourself."

"Do you think we will win out?" asked the lad, anxiously.

"I do,--but it is going to be a tougher struggle than any of us
expected."

On the morning of the third day of the attack matters were at first
quiet, but then came a fierce fire by the Mexicans on the Texans'
trench. The sharpshooters were called again to the front, and in an
hour the enemy had stopped almost entirely.

"Here goes for another dash!" came the cry at noon, and sure enough
another dash was led to a house still closer to the plaza, and the
building was soon in the possession of the Texans. They were gaining
their victory slowly but surely.

At evening Colonel Milam attempted to leave his own position to consult
with Colonel Johnson, still at the Veramendi house. "You must be
careful, colonel," came the warning, as the gallant fighter stood in
the courtyard. The words had scarcely been spoken when a bullet took
Milam in the head, killing him instantly.

The loss at this critical moment was a severe one, and the officers
were called into hasty consultation, the result of which was that
Colonel Johnson was placed at the head of the expedition.

The battle was now growing fiercer and fiercer, and, angered over the
loss of Colonel Milam, the Texans forced their way to another house,
which fronted the Military Plaza and was but a block from the Main
Plaza.

"Down with the Mexicans! Hurrah for the liberty of Texas!" were the
cries, and the Texans grew more enthusiastic than ever. In the midst of
this uproar Ralph discovered his father and Dan at the doorway to one
of the houses, and ran to join them.

"Ralph, my son!" cried Amos Radbury, and caught the lad to his breast,
and Dan hugged his brother with a bear-like grip. "You are quite well?"

"Yes, father. But what a fight this is!"

"Yes, and it will be worse before it is over."

"Did you see Big Foot?" questioned Dan.

"Yes, he helped me to get out of prison."

There was no time just then to say more, for the Texans were fighting
hotly, holding several houses and endeavouring to keep the Mexicans out
of such buildings where they might have an advantage.

On the fourth day of the attack the Texans fought their way to what was
called the Zambrano Row, which line of stone buildings reached to one
end of the Main Plaza. "Let us get to the Main Plaza, and Cos will be
done for!" was the cry.

From one house the Texans cut their way through the thick stone walls
to the next, until at last the whole row was theirs, and the Mexicans
were driven in every direction.

The Main Plaza could now be covered in part, but during the coming
night the Texans captured still another building, called the Priest's
House, which fronted directly on the great square. As soon as this was
captured, the Texans barricaded doors and windows, and made of the
house a regular fort.

"We've got 'em on the run," said more than one Texan, after the
Priest's House had been barricaded, and this proved to be true. With
both the Military Plaza and the Main Plaza swept by the fire of the
enemy, the Mexicans knew not what to do. The citizens of the town were
in a panic, and men, women, and children ran the streets as if insane.
Then the cry went up in Spanish: "To the Alamo! To the Alamo!" and away
went the civilians, some with their household effects on their backs.
Seeing this, the Mexicans also withdrew, meaning at first to protect
the inhabitants (which was unnecessary, for the Texans did not wish to
molest them), and then to reorganise at the Alamo for an attack on
General Burleson's camp. But at the Alamo things were in the utmost
confusion, and before General Cos could call his troops together, some
of them fled, making straight for the Rio Grande River.

This wound up the fighting, and it was not long before the Mexican
general sent out a flag of truce, asking upon what terms the Texans
would receive his surrender. The Texans were very lenient, and the
matter was quickly settled. The loss to the Texans had been about
thirty killed and wounded; the loss to the Mexicans was six or eight
times greater.




CHAPTER XXIV.

A MIDNIGHT DISCOVERY.


In view of what was to follow at Goliad, it will be well for us to look
for a moment at the terms which the Texans made with General Cos at the
time of the latter's surrender.

The Texans, having things all their own way, might have been very
dictatorial in their demands, yet they agreed to allow General Cos and
his officers to retain their arms and all of their private property.
The Mexican soldiers were to return home or remain in Texas as they
preferred, the convicts which had been pressed into the service were to
be conducted across the Rio Grande River under guard, and the sick and
wounded were to be left to the care of the Texans. On his retreat
General Cos took with him over eleven hundred men, many of whom were
armed against a possible attack by the Indians.

"I think he is getting off easy," observed Dan, when it became known
under what conditions the Mexican commander was leaving. "I don't
believe he would be so considerate with us."

"Not by a long shot," put in Poke Stover. "He'd be for treating us wuss
nor prairie-dogs."

"Well, it is always best to be considerate," said Amos Radbury. "It may
be the means of bringing this contest to a happier conclusion."

"Well, we're going to keep the regular muskets and army stores, aren't
we?" asked Ralph.

"Yes, all public property comes to Texas," said his father.

General Cos left San Antonio on the 14th of December, and on the
following day General Burleson resigned from the Texan army, and a good
many of the volunteers went home, to learn how matters were progressing
for the winter. On all sides it was felt that no other movement of
importance would occur for some time to come, for, in those days in
Texas, there were no railroads to carry an army wherever wanted, and
the distance from San Antonio to the lower Rio Grande River was a
distance of several hundred miles.

"We may as well go home, too, boys," said Lieutenant Radbury, two days
after his commander had resigned. "I am anxious to know how Pompey is
getting along."

"What of the white mustang?" questioned Dan.

"I reckon we will have to let the white mustang take care of
himself,--at least for the present," smiled Amos Radbury.

It was decided that Poke Stover, who had become very much attached to
the Radburys, should accompany them, and, a few days later, they set
out for the ranch on the Guadalupe by way of Gonzales.

The stop at Gonzales was made to see what had been done with Hank
Stiger.

"He must not be given his liberty until he confesses what he has done
with my claim papers," said Amos Radbury.

The ride to Gonzales was made without special incident, but along the
whole of the road it was seen that the people were aroused to the
highest pitch. Everybody wondered what Mexico would do next.

It was a bitter cold day when Gonzales was reached, and it looked as if
the first norther of the season was at hand.

"You're too late," said one of the citizens, to Amos Radbury, as they
rode up to the lockup.

"Too late?"

"Yes."

"What do you mean?" asked Dan.

"You're after that Hank Stiger, I take it?"

"We are."

"He skipped out, day before yesterday."

"Broke jail?"

"Well, not exactly that, Radbury. Louis Reemer was a-watching of him,
and Louis got drunk and left the jail door unlocked, and----"

"And Stiger walked out, I suppose," finished Lieutenant Radbury,
bitterly.

"We allow as how he run out--an' putty quick-like, too."

"Did anybody make a hunt for him?"

"To be sure. But he had two or three hours the start of us, and so we
couldn't find his trail."

"Reemer ought to be locked up himself."

"We ducked him in the horse-trough. But he wasn't so much to blame,
after all. We had a jollification because of the capture of Bexar, and
a good many of the men weren't jest as straight as they might be."

With a heavy heart, Amos Radbury rode down to the jail. But Reemer was
away, and a new man had taken his place,--a man who knew absolutely
nothing concerning the half-breed who had gotten away thus easily.

"We may as well go home," said the lieutenant.

"I would like to see Henry Parker first," said Dan, and received
permission to take a run to Henry's house, while his father did some
necessary trading.

Dan found Henry Parker as well as ever, and hard at work preparing for
the winter, for his father could do but little. Henry was deeply
interested in the particulars of the attack on San Antonio.

"I wish I had been there," he cried. "But I am going when the army
reorganises; mother and father have promised it."

"There wasn't much fun in it," said Dan, soberly. "It was real hard
fighting from start to finish. The fellows who went in for a mere
dust-up got left."

"Oh, I know war is no play, Dan. But I mean to do my duty by Texas, and
that is all there is to it," concluded Henry Parker.

Early the next morning the party of four began the journey up the river
to the ranch home. It was still cloudy, and Ralph declared that he saw
a number of snowflakes come down, but the others were not so sure of
this. Yet the weather was dismal enough.

"We are going to have a pretty heavy winter for this section," said
Amos Radbury,--and the prediction proved a true one.

As they journeyed along, the wind swept mournfully through the pines
and pecans, but not once did they catch sight of any wild animal,
outside of a few squirrels and hares. Some of these Poke Stover brought
down, "jest to keep his hand in," as he declared.

While yet they were a long distance off, Pompey saw them coming and ran
forward to meet them.

"Bless de Lawd yo' is all safe!" he cried. "I dun fink one or de udder
of yo' been shot suah!" And he shook hands with his master and fairly
embraced the boys.

"And how have you been, Pompey?" asked Amos Radbury.

"I'se been all right, Mars' Radbury. Had quite a job 'tendin' to fings
alone, but I'se dun gwine an' done it, neberdeless, sah. But las' night
I'se dun got scared, mars'," and Pompey rolled his eyes mysteriously.

"Got scared? At what?"

"A man, sah, wot was a-creepin' around de ranch, sah, peepin' in de
doah an' de winders, sah."

"A man?"

"Hank Stiger, I'll wager a dollar!" cried Dan.

"It must have been that fellow," added Ralph.

"What became of the man, Pompey?" went on Mr. Radbury.

"I can't say as to dat, sah. As soon as I dun spot him, sah, I got de
gun, an' he run away like de Old Boy was after him, sah."

Asked to describe the stranger, Pompey gave a fairly good description
of him, and this fitted Hank Stiger exactly.

"He is around for no good purpose," said Amos Radbury. "Are all of the
mustangs safe?"

"Yes, sah. I'se dun watch dem de whole night, sah."

"We must keep a watch to-night, too, and to-morrow we can go on a hunt
and see if he is hiding anywhere near."

In honour of the home-coming, Pompey, as tired as he was, spread a
generous table, and all sat around this for several hours, eating,
drinking, and discussing the situation. The Radburys were glad Poke
Stover had accompanied them, for now the frontiersman could help keep
guard against the half-breed, should the latter mean mischief.

The next day proved so stormy and cold that the boys were glad to
remain indoors. It did not snow, but the rain was a half hail and the
wind was of the kind that reaches one's marrow. Only Amos Radbury and
Poke Stover went out, to the cattle shed and the nearest range, and
they were glad enough to come in long before evening.

"Hank Stiger won't stir around much in this weather," observed Mr.
Radbury, as he shook the water from his greatcoat. "He's too much
afraid of himself."

"Yes, but he'll want shelter somewhere," said Ralph.

"Perhaps he has gone after the Comanches," said Dan. "He may have been
just on a journey when Pompey saw him."

So the talk ran on, but nothing came of it. That night, completely
tired out, all retired early. Just before he went to bed Dan looked out
of the window and saw that it was clearing off, and that the stars were
trying to break through the clouds.

Down in a corner of the cattle shed rested a small keg of powder which
Amos Radbury had brought home from Gonzales, for his stock of this
article had run low. As Dan lay in bed he could not get this keg of
powder out of his head.

"I hope it didn't get wet," he thought. "But surely father must have
covered it up with great care."

For thinking of the keg, Dan could not get to sleep, and at last he
arose and walked out into the living-apartment of the cabin. Here, in
the middle of the floor, he came to a sudden standstill, as a noise
outside reached his ears.

What the noise came from he could not determine. First there was a
slight bump, and then a rolling sound, and then he heard a scratching,
as of steel upon flint.

"I'm going to investigate this," he said to himself, and, catching up
his gun, he ran to the door and threw it open.

What he saw surprised him beyond measure. There, in the darkness, stood
Hank Stiger. The half-breed had a bit of lighted tinder in his hand,
and at his feet lay the keg of powder with a long fuse attached to the
open bung-hole!




CHAPTER XXV.

MARCH OF SANTA ANNA INTO TEXAS.


"You rascal! Get back, or I'll shoot!"

[Illustration: "'YOU RASCAL! GET BACK, OR I'LL SHOOT!'"]

Such were the words which burst from Dan's lips as soon as he recovered
sufficiently from his surprise to speak.

But Hank Stiger was already retreating, carrying the lighted tinder in
his hand. He could not make out who was there, but saw it was somebody
with a gun, and the sight of the weapon was enough for him.

"What's up?" came from Poke Stover, who had been snoring in the corner,
and the old frontiersman scrambled to his feet and joined Dan at the
doorway.

"There goes Hank Stiger! He was going to blow up the cabin with our keg
of gunpowder."

"Can it be possible! I'll stop him." Stover ran outside. "Stop, Hank
Stiger, or you're a dead man!" he called out, loudly.

But the half-breed was now running like a deer and paid no attention to
the words. Taking hasty but careful aim at Stiger's legs, Poke Stover
pulled the trigger of his gun.

The report, which awakened all of the others, was followed by a scream
of pain from the half-breed, who went a step or two more and then sank
in a heap.

"What does this mean?" demanded Amos Radbury, as he, too, seized his
gun. "Are we attacked by Indians?"

"No, we were attacked by Hank Stiger," answered Dan, and pointed to the
keg of powder.

"My powder! What was he going to do with that?"

"Blow us all sky-high."

"And you saw him?"

"Yes, I caught him in the act of lighting the fuse lying there."

"But how came you to be up?"

"I was restless,--thinking about the keg and other things."

"It must have been an act of Providence," murmured Amos Radbury. "Who
fired the shot?"

"Poke Stover. He has gone after Stiger," concluded Dan.

All ran out of the cabin, and found the frontiersman and the half-breed
at the edge of the clearing. Hank Stiger had been struck in the knee
and was evidently suffering great pain, for after screaming for awhile
he fell back in a dead faint.

Stover and Pompey were for leaving him where he had fallen, but neither
Amos Radbury nor his sons had the heart to do this, and in the end the
half-breed was carried to the cattle shed and put in the corner from
whence he had removed the powder. All were anxious to question him
about his actions, but the wounded man was in no condition to talk.

"After this I'll put this powder in a safer place," said Mr. Radbury,
and stored it in a corner of the dugout, under the living-room.

Hank Stiger's wound was dressed, and then Pompey was set to watch him
for the remainder of the night. The negro was given a pistol and was
instructed to discharge it at the first intimation of danger of any
kind.

But the balance of the night passed quietly, and toward morning Dan got
into a sound sleep, from which he did not awaken until long after the
others were up.

After breakfast Amos Radbury started to question Hank Stiger. He found
the half-breed resting easily, but in a sullen mood. At first he
utterly refused to talk.

"Very well," said Mr. Radbury. "If you won't talk, neither shall you
eat nor drink."

"Then take me back to the Gonzales lockup," muttered Stiger.

"We will,--when we have the time. At present we have other matters to
attend to."

Left once more in charge of Pompey, the half-breed flew into a rage and
muttered all sorts of imprecations against those who had outwitted him.
Then, as the day wore on, he calmed down, and tried to bribe the
coloured man into giving him something to eat and to drink.

Pompey was obdurate. "Can't do it, nohow," he said. "It's ag'in Mars'
Radbury's ordahs, sah."

A wounded man always craves water, and by one o'clock in the afternoon
the half-breed's tongue was fairly lolling out of his mouth. He stood
it awhile longer, then summoned Pompey.

"Give me a drink,--I am dyin'."

"I dun tole you dat it was ag'in the massah's ordahs, sah."

"He said I could have water if I would talk," growled Stiger.

"Is yo' ready to talk?"

"Yes."

At once the negro called his master, who was busy, with the boys and
Poke Stover, in putting down some hog-meat for the winter. Knowing how
greatly Stiger must suffer, Amos Radbury went to him without delay.

"So you are willing to talk now, Stiger?"

"How can I help myself?"

"Then tell me why you tried to blow up my cabin?"

"I wanted to git squar' fer havin' me locked up."

"But you deserved to be locked up, after that attack on Dan and Henry
Parker."

At this the half-breed shrugged his shoulders.

"And you must remember perfectly well what you did before that,"
continued Amos Radbury.

"I didn't get Bison Head to attack you,--he did that on his own
account."

"But you came in afterward and robbed the place. It is useless for you
to deny any longer that you took those papers relating to this grant of
land."

For several minutes Stiger was silent. At last he lifted his eyes.

"Are you goin' to give me dat drink?" he asked, falling back into his
Indian accent.

"Yes,--if you'll promise to tell me about the papers."

"I--I will."

Pompey was at once sent for a pitcher of fresh water, and when it
arrived Hank Stiger grabbed it with both hands and drained it dry.
Nectar could not have tasted sweeter to him.

"Now what did you do with the papers?" Amos Radbury asked, after Stiger
had given a long sigh of satisfaction.

"I--I lost 'em."

Instantly Amos Radbury's face flushed, and he sprang to his feet.

"Stiger, you are falsifying! I do not believe you!" he exclaimed.

"It's de truf."

"It is not. You have either hidden the papers or else given them to
somebody."

At this the half-breed shrugged his shoulders again.

"You cannot deceive me longer," went on the settler. "By and by you
will want food and more water. You shall have neither."

"Goin' ter starve me to death?"

"It will be your own fault. I am now treating you with more kindness
than you deserve. Many a man would have strung you up to the nearest
tree for your misdeeds."

At this Hank Stiger winced, for he knew only too well that Mr. Radbury
spoke the truth. He felt that he could not go too far or he might get
into deeper trouble.

"I'll tell yer all," he said at last. "But give me somethin' to eat
first."

"Not a mouthful until you have told your story. Then you can have all
the food and water you wish, and we'll try to make you as comfortable
as we can."

This was the straw which broke the camel's back, so far as Hank Stiger
was concerned, and with much hesitation he told his story, which in
substance was as follows:

About six months before, he had fallen in with a man of mixed American
and Spanish blood named Carlos Martine, who was anxious to obtain
possession of a large grant of land on the Guadalupe from the Radbury
claim northward.

Carlos Martine was in league with a number of Mexican officials, and
had obtained ownership of a large portion of the land without much
difficulty. But the best of the land, that fronting the river, belonged
to Amos Radbury, and this Martine could not obtain, although he tried
to do so through a certain John Morgan. Morgan had asked Mr. Radbury to
sell several times, but had been refused.

Carlos Martine had had a hold on Hank Stiger, and during the Indian
raid had asked the half-breed to obtain possession of the papers
relating to the land, if they could be found in the Radbury cabin. What
Martine was going to do with the papers Stiger did not know.

Having obtained the papers, Hank Stiger had gone off to Gonzales with
them. From there he had journeyed to Goliad, and there met Carlos
Martine. The latter had promised him twenty dollars, Mexican money, for
the documents, but at the time of the meeting the half-breed had been
so intoxicated that he could not remember whether he received the cash
or not. Certainly, when he had sobered up, two days later, every cent
of the money was missing.

"And have you seen Carlos Martine since?" questioned Amos Radbury.

"No."

"Then you do not know where he is?"

Once more Hank Stiger shrugged his shoulders. "I think he got afraid
and went to Mexico. A good many people around Gonzales do not like him,
and I think he was afraid I would expose him," he ventured.

Amos Radbury questioned the half-breed, and at last concluded that the
story must be largely true. This being so, he ordered Pompey to fetch
some more water and prepare such a meal as might be good for the sick
man. The planter had had considerable experience at doctoring, and he
attended to the wounded knee with almost as much skill as a surgeon.

As Carlos Martine was out of reach, nothing could at present be done
toward getting back the missing documents.

"But I shall fortify myself as much as possible," said Amos Radbury;
and on the following day he wrote down Hank Stiger's confession in
full, made the half-breed sign it with his mark, and had Poke Stover
witness the paper.

"Thet might not hold with the Mexican government," drawled the old
frontiersman, "but I calkerlate 'twill hold with the government o' this
free an' enlightened State o' Texas, hear me!" And at this the others
had to laugh.

The holidays came and went, and nothing of more than ordinary interest
happened at the ranch. It was at times bitter cold, the sweeping
"northers," as they are called, hurling themselves over Texas with
great fury. During those times everybody remained indoors hugging the
fire. Hank Stiger still kept to his couch at the cattle shed, and was
provided regularly with all that he needed to eat and drink. If the
truth must be told, the half-breed was thankful that he had such a
comfortable home for the time being, knowing it was much better than
any the Indians could offer him, or better than he would get at the
Gonzales lockup.

In the meantime, matters politically were in a very mixed-up state
throughout Texas. The majority of the settlers were for liberty, but
some, while wishing State rights, still thought it best to remain in
the Mexican Confederation, while others wanted annexation to the United
States without delay.

Many meetings were held, but this only increased the confusion, and
though a portion of the Texans set up a provisional government, others
continued to act largely on their own responsibility. There were many
wrangles and, to look back, it is a great wonder that anarchy did not
reign supreme. But it is a satisfaction to know that, in the end, law
and order conquered. With the political troubles our tale has nothing
to do.

While the Texans were speculating upon what to do next, Santa Anna, in
Mexico, was not idle. At the head of a party peculiarly his own, he had
cut off many of the rights of the Mexican citizens, and made himself
virtually a dictator, although still called simply the president. This
accomplished, he set out to subdue Texas, the only spot where his
authority was resisted.

Santa Anna had sent out a small command to relieve General Cos at San
Antonio. The two forces met at the Rio Grande River, and there waited
for further orders. Early in February, General Santa Anna came up to
Monova with about four thousand troops. These soldiers were joined by
those on the Rio Grande, thus increasing the Mexican army to about
seven thousand.

The order now came for a direct advance upon San Antonio, and the army
set off on its wearisome journey of about six hundred miles over a
plain which was hardly protected by any timber from the cutting winter
winds. Slow progress was made, and, food falling short, the whole army
had to be put on short rations. Some of the soldiers tried to desert,
but these were promptly shot by Santa Anna's orders. Whenever a
settlement was passed, the inhabitants were made to give the hungry
Mexicans all the provisions they could possibly spare. Once the whole
army came close to open rebellion, but Santa Anna's orders were
supreme, and on the 22d day of February, 1836, the first of his troops
appeared within sight of San Antonio; and the war, which had hung fire
since the December before, was again begun.




CHAPTER XXVI.

WILD TURKEYS AND ANOTHER TRAIL.


One day, early in February, Amos Radbury came riding back from a trip
to Gonzales with news that he had heard from Carlos Martine.

"The man has been at San Felipe," he declared, "and I have it on good
authority that he intends to claim my land."

"Well, what are ye going to do?" queried Poke Stover, who was still at
the ranch.

"I hardly know. But I wish I could have a talk with Martine. It might
be the means of saving a good deal of trouble."

"Is Martine still at San Felipe?"

"No, Gusher told me that he had gone to San Antonio."

"Then why not take a trip to San Antonio and find him?" suggested the
old frontiersman. "I reckon that is what I would do."

"I think you are right, Poke, and I'll start tomorrow," answered the
planter.

He went in to talk the matter over with his sons, and the land claim
was the chief topic of conversation for the balance of the evening.

"I now wish I had kept Hank Stiger here," said Mr. Radbury. The
half-breed had left the ranch but three days before, apparently very
grateful for the manner in which he had been treated.

"Well, one thing is certain," declared Dan, "I don't stand for giving
up the claim. I'll fight first. Those Mexican officials can do as they
please, but they can't budge me."

"Good fer Dan!" shouted Stover. "He's the kind the State o' Texas will
want in days to come."

On the next day Mr. Radbury was too busy to think of leaving the ranch.
There was much work at the cattle shed, part of which had been blown
down by a norther which had proved little less than a hurricane.

In working upon the shed the planter had a mishap. The rung of a short
ladder broke beneath his weight, and he came down flat on his back. No
bones were broken, but he was hurt otherwise, and decided that it would
be best for him to keep off his horse for a week or ten days.

He was apparently much worried to think he could not see Carlos
Martine, and, noticing this, Dan went to him, and asked if he could not
do the errand.

"You, Dan!"

"Yes, father. I know you think I am but a boy, yet----"

"No, my son," interposed Mr. Radbury. "I used to think you were but a
boy, but, since you showed your fighting qualities at Bexar, I have
changed my mind. You are but a boy in years."

"Then let me go and see if I can hunt up this Carlos Martine. I can at
least have a talk with him, and learn how matters stand."

Amos Radbury shook his head, but in the end he consented to let Dan go,
providing Poke Stover would accompany him on the trip. The old
frontiersman was willing, and early on the following morning the pair
set off on their mustangs, each carrying his gun, which was now a
custom with all of the settlers.

In those days there were two main trails, or wagon roads, crossing the
Guadalupe River. The lower trail was the one running through San
Felipe, Gonzales, and San Antonio, and this could very properly be
termed the main highway of Texas. From fifty to a hundred miles north
of this was the trail running through Nacogdoches, and across a hilly
and uncultivated territory to San Antonio and the Rio Grande. At San
Antonio the two trails came together in the form of the letter V, and
in the notch thus formed stood the Franciscan Mission, commonly called
the Alamo, which means the cottonwood-tree. Of this mission, which was
to be so bravely defended, we will soon learn many interesting details.

The Radburys usually rode to San Antonio by way of Gonzales, but Dan
and Poke Stover decided to ride through the timber lands to the
northwest until the upper trail was gained. This way might be a trifle
rougher, but it was no longer, and the trees along the upper trail
would serve to break the force of the northers which were continually
sweeping the face of the country.

The two set off in high spirits, each with his saddle-bags well stocked
with provisions, and each well armed.

"Who knows but what we may meet some Indians on the way?" said Dan.

"I doubt if the Indians are active now," replied the old frontiersman.
"They have had some pretty good lessons lately, and, besides, they know
that all of the settlers are arming against the Mexicans, and are,
consequently, ready for them."

"Do you know why I came this way?" went on Dan, after a pause.

"I didn't calkerlate you had any perticklar reason, Dan."

"I have an idea we can run across that white mustang father lost."

"Humph! That nag may be miles an' miles away from this deestrict."

"That is true. But yesterday, when I rode up to the edge of this
timber, I caught sight of something that looked very much like the
white mustang."

"You did! Then why didn't you say so afore?"

"I didn't want to worry father. I thought I would tell you,--when we
got out,--and I've done it," added Dan.

"Where did ye spot the critter?"

"Right over to the left, near that fallen pine. But I'm not sure it was
the white mustang. But it was some creature in white."

"If it wasn't the mustang, it couldn't be anything else. There are no
other white critters here,--'ceptin' it might be a silver deer, and
they are as scarce as snowstorms in July."

They were now in the timber, and moving along at a steady gait. On all
sides the ground was as hard as a rock, and the keen air was bracing to
the last degree. A stiff breeze was blowing, swaying the branches
overhead, and occasionally bringing down a belated nut on their heads.

By noon they calculated that they had covered eighteen miles, which was
not bad, considering the nature of the ground they had traversed. With
the rising of the sun it grew warmer, and, seeking a sheltered spot,
they dismounted and partook of their midday meal. They had still
twenty-six miles to go, but hoped to cover that distance before
nightfall.

"I wonder how the garrison at San Antonio is making out," said Dan, as
they sat eating.

"Like as not a good many of the soldiers went home for Christmas,"
returned Stover. "To my mind, it's a great pity that Sam Houston ain't
succeeded in organising the army as he intended. He seems to be the
only leader who thinks that Santa Anna will come over here with a big
force to knock the spots out of us. All the others are quarrelling over
politics and places."

"I don't think it's quite as bad as that," laughed Dan. "But it seems
to me they ought to get an army together."

"The leaders ought to act in concert, Dan. If they don't, their
soldiers are licked afore they go into battle," remarked the old
frontiersman, sagely. "What Texas needs most of all is one first-class
leader, whom all obey." And in this speech Stover came very near to
telling the exact truth.

The meal finished, they were soon in the saddle again, and less than an
hour later they came upon the trail leading directly into San Antonio.
There was a hill of rocks on one side and a belt of timber on the
other, with here and there a water-course to be crossed.

So far, nothing had been seen of any game but a deer that was too far
away to be brought down, and a few hares, which neither took the
trouble to shoot. But now Poke Stover called attention to a flock of
wild turkeys resting along the rocks not a hundred yards distant.

"A fine shot, Dan!" he whispered. "We can make a good trade with 'em,
down in Bexar."

"That's so," answered the boy. "I'm ready to shoot when you are."

"Let us go into the timber, and come up in front of 'em," suggested the
old frontiersman. "The rocks kind o' hide 'em from this p'int."