“We can’t leave any too quick to please me,” said Will Alien.  “I’m seeing ghosts all the time.”

“Now that we know for sure the Alamo has fallen,” said Smith, “nothin’ is to be gained by stayin’ here.  It’s for Sam Houston to lead us to revenge, and the more men he has the better.  I vote we ride for Gonzales.”

“Seein’ what we can see as we go,” said Karnes.  “The more information we can pick up on the way about the march of the Mexicans the better it will be for Houston.”

“No doubt of that,” said the Panther.  “When we go to roarin’ an’ rippin’ an’ t’arin’ we must know what we’re about.  But come on, boys, all that red in the Alamo gives me conniption fits.”

They rode toward the east for a long time until they thought they were beyond the reach of Mexican skirmishing parties, and then they slept in a cypress thicket, Smith and Karnes standing guard by turns.  As everybody needed rest they did not resume their journey the next day until nearly noon, and they spent most of the afternoon watching for Mexican scouts, although they saw none.  They had a full rest that night and the next day they rode slowly toward Gonzales.

About the middle of the afternoon, as they reached the crest of a swell, Will Allen uttered an exclamation, and pointed toward the eastern horizon.  There they saw a single figure on horseback, and another walking beside it.  The afternoon sun was very bright, casting a glow over the distant figures, and, shading their eyes with their hands, they gazed at them a long time.

“It’s a woman that’s ridin’,” said Smith at last, “an’ she’s carryin’ some sort of a bundle before her.”

“You’re shorely right, Deaf,” said Karnes, “an’ I think the one walkin’ is a black fellow.  Looks like it from here.”

“I’m your way of thinkin’,” said the Panther, “an’ the woman on the horse is American, or I’m mightily fooled in my guess.  S’pose we ride ahead faster an’ see for shore.”

They increased the speed of their mustangs to a gallop and rapidly overhauled the little party.  They saw the woman trying to urge her horse to greater speed.  But the poor beast, evidently exhausted, made no response.  The woman, turning in the saddle, looked back at her pursuers.

“By all that’s wonderful!” exclaimed Obed White, “the bundle that she’s carrying is a baby!”

“It’s so,” said Smith, “an’ you can see well enough now that she’s one of our own people.  We must show her that she’s got nothin’ to fear from us.”

He shouted through his arched hands in tremendous tones that they were Texans and friends.  The woman stopped, and as they galloped up she would have fallen from her horse had not Obed White promptly seized her and, dismounting, lifted her and the baby tenderly to the ground.  The colored boy who had been walking stood by and did not say anything aloud, but muttered rapidly:  “Thank the Lord!  Thank the Lord!”