“What is this, Don Francisco?” asked the Ring Tailed Panther.

“I do not have to reply to you unless I wish,” said Urrea, “but I am willing to tell you that it is undoubtedly the trail of the Texan reinforcements to which I was signaling last night.”

Ned looked quickly at him.  Again the young Mexican’s voice had the ring of truth.  Was the wild and improbable tale now coming true?  If so, he could never forgive himself for the manner in which he had treated Urrea.  Still, it was for the older men to act now, and he continued his silence.

“Maybe Texans made this trail, and maybe they didn’t,” said Obed, “but I think we’d better follow it for a while and see.  About how old would you say this trail is, Panther?”

“Not more’n two hours.”

They turned their course, and followed the broad path left by the horsemen across the prairie.  Thus they rode at a good pace, until nearly noon, and the trail was now so fresh that they could not be far away.  The change of direction had brought them toward forest, heavy with undergrowth.  It was evident that the horsemen had gone into this forest as the trail continued to lead straight to it, and the Ring Tailed Panther approached with the greatest caution.

“Can you see anything, Ned, in there among them trees an’ bushes?” he asked.  “You’ve got the sharpest eyes of all.”

“Not a thing,” replied Ned, “nor do I see a bough or bush moving.”

“It would be hard for such a big party to hide themselves,” said Obed, “so I think we’d better ride straight in.”

They entered the forest, still following the trail among the trampled bushes, riding slowly over rough ground, and watching wanly to right and left.  Urrea had not said a word, but when they were about a mile within the wood, he suddenly leaned from his horse, snatched the knife from the belt of the Ring Tailed Panther and slashed at him.  Fortunately, the range was somewhat long for such work, and, as the Panther threw up his arm, the blade merely cut his buckskin sleeve from wrist to elbow, only grazing his skin.  Urrea, quick as lightning, turned his horse, threw him against that of Obed which was staggered, and then started at a gallop among the trees.

The Ring Tailed Panther raised his rifle, but Urrea threw himself behind his horse, riding with all the dexterity of a Comanche in the fashion of an Indian who wishes to protect himself; that is, hanging on the far side of the horse by only hands and toes.  The Panther shifted his aim and shot the horse through the head.  But Urrea leaped clear of the falling body, avoided Obed’s bullet, and darted into the thickest of the bushes.  As he disappeared a sharp, piercing whistle rose.  Ned did not have time to think, but when he heard the whistle, instinct warned him that it was a signal.  He had heard that whistle once before in exciting moments, and by a nervous action as it were, he pulled hard upon the reins of his horse.  In this emergency it was the boy whose action was the wisest.