As Ned and the others sprang to cover he trampled upon the flowers in a patio, and he saw a little fountain playing.  Then he knew.  It was the house of Veramendi, and he thought it a singular chance that had brought him to the same place.  But he had little time for reflection.  The column of Texans, a hundred and fifty in number, were taking possession of every part of the building, the occupants of which had fled through the rear doors.

“To the roof!” cried “Deaf” Smith.  “We can best meet the attack from there.”

The doors and windows were already manned, but Smith and many of the best men rushed to the flat roof, and looked over the low stone coping.  It was not yet day and they could not see well.  Despite the lack of light, the Mexicans opened a great fire of cannon and small arms.  The whole town resounded with the roar and the crash and also with the shouting.  But most of the cannon balls and bullets flew wide, and the rest spent themselves in vain on the two houses.

The Texans, meanwhile, held their fire, and waited for day.  Ned, Smith and the others on the roof lay down behind the low coping.  They had achieved their long wish.  They were in San Antonio, but what would happen to them there?

Ned peeped over the coping.  He saw many flashes down the street toward the plaza and he heard the singing of bullets.  His finger was on the trigger and the temptation to reply was great, but like the others he waited.

The faint light in the east deepened and the sun flashed out.  The full dawn was at hand and the two forces, Texans and Mexicans, faced each other.

CHAPTER XXII

THE TAKING OF THE TOWN

The December sun, clear and cold, bathed the whole town in light.  Houses, whether of stone, adobe or wood, were tinted a while with gold, but everywhere in the streets and over the roofs floated white puffs of smoke from the firing, which had never ceased on the part of the Mexicans.  The crash of rifles and muskets was incessant, and every minute or two came the heavy boom of the cannon with which Cos swept the streets.  The Texans themselves now pulled the trigger but little, calmly waiting their opportunity.

Ned and his comrades still lay on the roof of the Veramendi house.  The boy’s heart beat fast but the scene was wild and thrilling to the last degree.  He felt a great surge of pride that he should have a share in so great an event.  From the other side of the river came the rattle of rifle fire, and he knew that it was the detachment from Burleson attacking the Alamo.  But presently the sounds there died.

“They are drawing off,” said Obed, “and it is right.  It is their duty to help us here, but I don’t see how they can ever get into San Antonio.  I wish the Mexicans didn’t have those cannon which are so much heavier than ours.”

The Texans had brought with them a twelve pounder and a six pounder, but the twelve pounder had already been dismounted by the overpowering Mexican fire, and, without protection they were unable to use the six pounder which they had drawn into the patio, where it stood silent.