Ned could not keep from waving his hand to them.  These were his people, and he was thankful that he should have so large a part in the attempt to save them.  But he only had fleeting glimpses because they rode very fast now.  He was going to Sam Houston, famous throughout all the Southwest, and Houston was at one of the little new settlements some distance away.  He would tell his story again, but he knew that the Texans were already gathering.  The messengers detached from the group had now carried the alarm to many a cabin.

Several times at night they saw points of fire on the horizon and they would pause to look at them.

“That’s the Texans signaling to one another,” said “Deaf” Smith.  “They’re passing the word westward.  They’re calling in the buffalo hunters and those who went out to fight the Comanches and Lipans.”

Ned had alternations of hope and despondency.  He saw anew how few the Texans were.  Their numbers could be counted only in thousands, while the Mexicans had millions.  Moreover, the tiny settlements were scattered widely.  Could such a thin force make a successful defense against the armies of Cos and Santa Anna?  But after every moment of despair, the rebound came, and he saw that the spirit of the people was indomitable.

At last, they rode into a straggling little village by the side of a wide and shallow river.  All the houses were built of logs or rough boards, and Ned and his companions dismounted before the largest.  They had already learned that Sam Houston was inside.  Ned felt intense curiosity as they approached.  He knew the history of Houston, his singular and picturesque career, and the great esteem in which he was held by the Texans.  A man with a rifle on his shoulder stood by the door as guard, but he recognized Smith and Karnes, and held the door open for the four, who went inside without a word.

Several men, talking earnestly were sitting in cane-bottomed chairs, and Ned, although he had never seen him before, knew at once which was Houston.  The famous leader sat in the center of the little group.  He was over six feet high, very powerful of build, with thick, longish hair, and he was dressed carefully in a suit of fine dark blue cloth.  He rose and saluted the four with great courtesy.  Despite his long period of wild life among the Indians his manners were distinguished.

“We welcome you, Smith and Karnes, our faithful scouts,” he said, “and we also welcome those with you who, I presume, are the two escaped from the City of Mexico.”

It was evident that the story of Ned and Obed had preceded them, but Karnes spoke for them.

“Yes, General,” he said.  “They are the men, or rather the man and the boy.  These are Obed White and Ned Fulton, General Houston.”

Houston’s glance ran swiftly over them.  Evidently he liked both, as he smiled and gave each a hearty hand.

“And now for your story,” he said.