No light was allowed, and the night was cold.  The figures of the men looked like phantoms in the dusk.  Ned stood with his friends, while Milam gave the directions.  They were to be divided into two forces.  One under Milam was to enter the town by the street called Acequia, and the other under Colonel Johnson was to penetrate by Soledad Street.  They relied upon the neglect of the Mexicans to get so far, before the battle began.  Burleson, with the remainder of his men would attack the ancient mission, then turned into a fort, called the Alamo.

“Deaf” Smith, who knew the town thoroughly, led Johnson’s column, and Ned, Obed and the Ring Tailed Panther were just behind him.

Ned was quivering in every nerve with excitement and suspense, but he let no one see it.  He moved forward with steady step and he heard behind him the soft tread of the men who intended to get into San Antonio without being seen.  He looked back at them.  They came in the dusk like so many shadows and no one spoke.  It was like a procession of ghosts, moving into a sleeping town.  The chill wind cut across their faces, but no one at that moment took notice of cold.

High over Ned’s head a great star danced and twinkled, and it seemed to him that it was the Texan Star springing out.

The houses of the town rose out of the darkness.  Ned saw off to right and left fresh earthworks and rifle pits, but either no men were stationed there or they slept.  The figure of Smith led steadily on and behind came the long and silent file.  How much farther would they go without being seen or heard?  It seemed amazing to Ned that they had come so far already.

They were actually at the edge of the town.  Now they were in it, going up the narrow Soledad Street between the low houses directly toward the main plaza, which was fortified by barricades and artillery.  A faint glimmer of dawn was just beginning to appear in the east.

A dusky figure suddenly appeared in the street in front of them and gave a shout of alarm.  “Deaf” Smith fired and the man fell.  A bugle pealed from the plaza and a cannon was fired down the street, the ball whistling over the heads of the Texans.  In an instant the garrison of Cos was awake, and the alarm sounded from every point of San Antonio.  Lights flashed, arms rattled and men called to one another.

“Into this house” cried “Deaf” Smith.  “We cannot charge up the narrow street in face of the cannon!”

They were now within a hundred yards of the plaza, but they saw that the guide was right.  They dashed into the large, solid house that he had indicated, and Ned did not notice until he was inside that it was the very house of the Vice-Governor, Veramendi, into which he had come once before.  Just as the last of the Texans sprang through the doors another cannon ball whistled down the street, this time low enough.  Milam’s division, meanwhile, had rushed into the house of De La Garcia, near by.