“Idiot!” he exclaimed.

Then he suddenly lashed Ned across the face with the little riding whip.  The blow fell on serape and sombrero and the flesh was not touched, but for a few moments Ned went mad.  He dropped his rifle, leaped upon the astonished officer, wrenched the whip from his hands, slashed him across the cheeks with it until the blood ran in streams, then broke it in two and threw the pieces in his face.  Ned’s serape fell away.  Urrea had clasped his hands to his cheeks that stung like fire, but now he recognized the boy.

“Fulton!” he cried.

The sharp exclamation brought Ned to a realization of his danger.  He seized his rifle, pulled up the serape and sprang back.  Already Mexican soldiers were gathering.  It was truly fortunate for Ned that he was quick of thought, and that his thoughts came quickest when the danger was greatest.  He knew that the cry of “Fulton!” was unintelligible to them, and he exclaimed: 

“Save me, comrades!  He tried to beat me without cause, and now he would kill me, as you see!”

Urrea had drawn a pistol and was shouting fiery Mexican oaths.  The soldiers, some of them just awakened from sleep, and all of them dazed, had gathered in a huddle, but they opened to let Ned pass.  Excessive and cruel punishment was common among them.  A man might be flogged half to death at the whim of an officer, and instinctively they protected their comrade.

As the Mexican group closed up behind him, and between him and Urrea, Ned ran at top speed toward the west where the arroyo cut across the plain.  More Mexicans were gathering, and there was great confusion.  Everybody was asking what was the matter.  The boy’s quick wit did not desert him.  There was safety in ignorance and the multitude.

He quickly dropped to a walk and he, too, began to ask of others what had caused the trouble.  All the while he worked steadily toward the arroyo, and soon he left behind him the lights and the shouting.  He now came into the dark, passed beyond the Mexican lines, and entered the cut in the earth down which he had come.

He was compelled to sit down on the sand and relax.  He was exhausted by the great effort of both mind and body which had carried him through so much danger.  His heart was beating heavily and he felt dizzy.  But his eyes cleared presently and his strength came back.  He considered himself safe.  In the darkness it was not likely that any of the Mexicans would stumble upon him.

He thought of the Panther and Obed, but he could do nothing for them.  He must trust to meeting them again at the place appointed.  He looked at the Mexican camp.  The fires had burned up again there for a minute or two, but as he looked they sank once more.  The noise also decreased.  Evidently they were giving up the pursuit.

Ned rose and walked slowly up the arroyo.  He became aware that the night was very cold and it told on his relaxed frame.  He pulled up the serape again, and now it was for warmth and not for disguise.  He stopped at intervals to search the darkness with his eyes and to listen for noises.  He might meet with an enemy or he might meet with one of his friends.  He was prepared for either.  He had regained control of himself both body and mind, and his ready rifle rested in the hollow of his arm.