Repeated examinations from the walls of the church confirmed Ned in his belief.  The Mexican circle was complete, and their sheltered batteries were so near that they dropped balls and shells whenever they pleased inside the Alamo.  Duels between the cannon and the Texan sharpshooters were frequent.  The gunners as they worked their guns were forced to show themselves at times, and every exposure was instantly the signal for a Texan bullet which rarely missed.  But the Mexicans kept on.  It seemed that they intended to wear out the defenders by the sheer persistency of their cannon fire.

Ned became so hardened to the bombardment that he paid little attention to it.  Even when a ball fell inside the Alamo the chances were several hundred to one that it would not hit him.  He had amused himself with a mathematical calculation of the amount of space he occupied compared with the amount of space in the Alamo.  Thus he arrived at the result, which indicated comparatively little risk for himself.

The shrewdest calculations are often wrong.  As he passed through the convent yard he met Crockett, and the two walked on together.  But before they had gone half a dozen steps a bomb hissed through the air, fell and rolled to their feet.  It was still hissing and smoking, but Ned, driven by some unknown impulse, seized it and with a mighty effort hurled it over the wall, where it burst.  Then he stood licking his burned fingers and looking rather confusedly at Crockett.  He felt a certain shyness over what he had done.

The veteran frontiersman had already formed a great affection for the boy.  He knew that Ned’s impulse had come from a brave heart and a quick mind, and that he had probably saved both their lives.  He took a great resolution that this boy, the youngest of all the defenders, should be saved.

“That was done well, Ned,” he said quietly.  “I’m glad, boy, that I’ve known you.  I’d be proud if you were a son of mine.  We can talk plainly here with death all around us.  You’ve got a lot in that head of yours.  You ought to make a great man, a great man for Texas.  Won’t you do what I say and slip out of the Alamo while there’s still a chance?”

Ned was much moved, but he kept his resolution as he had kept it before.  He shook his head.

“You are all very good to me here,” he said.  “Mr. Bowie, too, has asked me to go, but if I should do so and the rest of you were to fall I’d be ashamed of myself all the rest of my life.  I’m a Texan now, and I’m going to see it through with the rest of you.”

“All right,” said Crockett lightly.  “I’ve heard that you can lead a horse to the water, but you can’t make him drink, an’ if a boy don’t want to go you can’t make him go.  So we’ll just go into this little improvised armory of ours, an’ you an’ I will put in our time moldin’ bullets.”

They entered one of the adobe buildings.  A fire had been built on the hearth, and a half dozen Texans were already busy there.  But they quickly made room for Crockett and Ned.  Crockett did not tell Ned that their supplies of powder and lead were running low, and that they must reduce their fire from the walls in order that they might have sufficient to meet an attack in force.