“Our need of you is great,” said Potter in his solemn, unchanging tones, “as we are but few, and the enemy may be wary.  Yet we must smite him and smite him hard.”

“Then lead the way,” said Obed.  “It’s better to be too soon than too late.”

Without another word Potter turned his horse toward the south.  He was tall and rawboned, his face burned well by the sun, but he had an angularity and he bore himself with a certain stiffness that did not belong to the “Texans” of Southern birth.  Ned did not doubt that he would be most formidable in combat.

After riding at least two hours without anyone speaking a word, Potter said: 

“We will meet the remainder of our friends and comrades about nightfall.  We will not exceed fifty, and more probably we shall be scarcely so many as that, but with the strength of a just cause in our arms it is likely that we shall be enough.”

“When we charged at Gonzales they stayed for but one look at our faces,” said the Ring Tailed Panther.  “Then they ran so fast that they were rippin’ an’ tearin’ up the prairie for the next twenty-four hours.”

“I have heard of that,” said Potter with a grave smile.  “The grass so far from growing scarcely bent under their feet.  Still, the Mexicans at times will fight with the greatest courage.”

Here Urrea spoke.

“My friends,” he said, “I must now leave you.  I have an uncle and cousins on the San Antonio River, not far above Goliad.  Like myself they are devoted adherents of the Texan cause, and it is more than likely that they will suffer terribly at the hands of some raiding party from Goliad, if they are not warned in time.  I have tried to steel my heart and go straight with you to Goliad, but I cannot forget those who are so dear to me.  However, it is highly probable that I can give them the warning to flee, and yet rejoin you in time for the attack.”

“We hate to lose a good man, when there’s rippin’ an’ tearin’ ahead of us,” said the Ring Tailed Panther.

“But if people of his blood are in such great danger he must even go,” said Potter.

Urrea’s face was drawn with lines of mental pain.  His expressive eyes showed great doubt and anguish.  Ned felt very sorry for him.

“It is a most cruel quandary,” said Urrea.  “I would go with you, and yet I would stay.  Texas and her cause have my love, but to us of Mexican blood the family also is very, very dear.”

His voice faltered and Latin tears stood in his eyes.

“Go,” said Obed.  “You must save your kin, and perhaps, as you hope, you can rejoin us in time.”

“Farewell,” said Urrea, “but you will see me again soon.”

He spurred his horse, a powerful animal, and went ahead at a gallop.  Soon he disappeared over the swells of the prairie.

“I hate to see him go,” growled the Ring Tailed Panther.  “Mexicans are uncertain even when they are on your side.  But he’s a big strong fellow, an’ he’d be handy in the fight for which we’re lookin’.”