“Come back, Obed, you and Panther!” he shouted.  “He may have led us into an ambush!”

Obed and the Ring Tailed Panther were still galloping after Urrea, and, even as Ned shouted to them, a flash of flame burst from the undergrowth.  He saw Obed’s horse fall, but Obed himself sprang clear.  The Panther did not seem to be hurt, but, in an instant, both were surrounded by Mexicans.  Obed was seized on the ground and the Panther was quickly dragged from his horse.  But the Maine man, even in such a critical moment, did not forget the boy for whom he had such a strong affection.  He shouted at the top of his voice: 

“Ride, Ned!  Ride for your life!”

Ned, still guided by impulse, wheeled his horse and galloped away.  It was evident that his comrades had been taken, and he alone was left to carry out their mission.  Shots were fired at him and bullets whistled past, but none touched him, and he only urged his horse to greater speed.

The boy felt a second impulse.  It was to turn back and fall, or be taken with the two comrades whom he liked so well.  But then reason came.  He could do more for them free than a captive, and now he began to take full thought for himself.  He bent far over on his horse’s neck, in order to make as small a target as possible, holding the reins with one hand and his rifle with the other.  A minute had taken him clear of the undergrowth, and once more he was on the prairie.

Ned did not look back for some time.  He heard several shots, but he judged by the reports that he was practically out of range.  Now he began to feel sanguine.  His horse was good and true, and he rode well.  As long as the bullets could not reach and weaken, he felt that the chances were greatly in his favor.  He was riding almost due north and the prairie stretched away without limit, although the forest extended for a long distance on his right.

He now straightened up somewhat in the saddle, but he did not yet look back, fearing that he might check his speed by doing so, and knowing that every moment was of the utmost value.  But he listened attentively to the pursuing hoofs and he was sure that the beat was steadily growing fainter.  The gap must be widening.

He glanced back for the first time and saw about twenty Mexicans spread out in the segment of a circle.  They rode ponies and two or three were recoiling lariats which they had evidently got ready in the hope of a throw.  Ned smiled to himself when he saw the lariats.  Unless something happened to his horse they could never come near enough for a cast.  He measured the gap and he believed that his rifle of long range would carry it.

One of the Mexicans rode a little in front of the others and Ned judged him to be the leader.  Twisting in his saddle he took aim at him.  It is difficult to shoot backward from a flying horse, but Ned had undergone the wilderness training and he felt that he could make the hit.  He pulled the trigger.  The jet of smoke leaped forth and the man, swaying, fell from his saddle, but sprang to his feet and clapped his hands to his shoulder, where the boy’s bullet had struck.