“Signaling to friends, not enemies, you mean,” said Urrea.  “This forest ends but a few hundred yards beyond, and I learned when I was scouting about San Antonio that some allies of ours in this region were waiting night and day for the news from us to come.  I took this method to communicate with them, a successful method, too, I am happy to say, as they answered.  In a wild region one must do strange things.”

His tone was so light, so easy, and it rang so true that Ned hesitated.  But it was only for a moment.  Manner could not change substance.  He cleared away the mists and vapors made by Urrea’s light tone and easy assurance, and came back to the core of the matter.

“Don Francisco,” he said, “I have liked you, and I believed that you were a true Texan patriot, but I cannot believe the story that you tell me.  It seems too improbable.  If you wished to make these signals to friends, why did you not tell us that you were going to do so?”

“I did not know of the possibility of such a signal until I saw this tree and its great height.  Then, as all of you were asleep, I concluded to make my signal, achieve the result and give you a pleasant surprise.  Come now, Senor Edward, hand me my rifle, and let us end this unpleasant joke.”

Ned shook his head.  It was hard to resist Urrea’s assurance, but manner was not all.  His logical mind rejected the story.

“I’m sorry, Don Francisco,” he said, “but I must refer this to my comrades, Mr. Palmer and Mr. White.  Meanwhile, I am compelled to hold you a prisoner.  You will walk before me to the camp, keeping your hands up.”

Urrea shrugged his shoulders and gave Ned a glance, which seemed to be a mixture of disgust and contempt.

“Very well, if you will have it so,” he said.  “There is nothing like the stubbornness of a boy.”

“March!” said Ned, who felt his temper rising.

Urrea, hands up, walked toward the camp, and Ned came behind him, carrying the two rifles, one of them cocked and ready for instant use.  The Mexican never looked back, but walked with unhesitating step straight to the camp.  The Ring Tailed Panther and Obed were still sound asleep, but, when Ned called sharply to them, they sprang to their feet, gazing in astonishment at the spectacle of Urrea with his hands up, and the boy standing behind him with the two rifles.

“Things seem to have happened while I slept,” said Obed.

“Looks as if there might have been some rippin’ an’ tearin’,” said the Ring Tailed Panther.  “What have you been up to, Urrea?”

Urrea gave the Ring Tailed Panther a malignant glance.

“I have not been up to anything, to use your own common language,” he replied.  “If you want any explanation, you can ask it of your suspicious young friend there.  As for me, I am tired of holding my hands as high as my head, and I intend to light a cigarette.  Three of you, I suppose, are sufficient to watch me.”