“Yes, I see it now, and I think you know what makes it, Ned.”

“I should say that it is the sun striking on the steel heads of long lances.”

“So should I, and I say also that those lances are carried by Mexican cavalrymen bound for Texas.  It may not be a bad guess either that this is the vanguard of the army of Cos.  I infer from the volume of dust that it is a considerable force.”

“Therefore it is wise for us to leave the road and hide as best we can.”

“Correctly spoken.  The truth needs no bush.  It walks without talking.”

They turned aside at once, and entered a field of Indian corn, where they hoped to pass quietly out of sight, but some of the lancers came on very fast and noticed the dusty figures at the far edge of the field.  Many of the Mexicans were skilled and suspicious borderers, and the haste with which the two were departing seemed suspicious to them.

Ned and Obed heard loud and repeated shouts to halt, but pretending not to hear passed out of the field and entered a stretch of thin forest beyond.

“We must not stop,” said Obed.  “Being regular soldiers they will surely discover, if they overtake us, that we are not Mexicans, and two or three lance thrusts would probably be the end of us.  Now that we are among these trees we’ll run for it.”

A shout came from the lancers in the corn field as soon as they saw the two break into a run.  Ned heard it, and he felt as the fox must feel when the hounds give tongue.  Tremors shook him, but his long and silent mental training came to his aid.  His will strengthened his body and he and Obed ran rapidly.  Nor did they run without purpose.  Both instinctively looked for the roughest part of the land and the thickest stretches of forest.  Only there could they hope to escape the lancers who were thundering after them.

Ned more than once wished to use his rifle, but he always restrained the impulse, and Obed glanced at him approvingly.  He seemed to know what was passing in the boy’s mind.

“Our bullets would be wasted now, even if we brought down a lancer or two,” he said, “so we’ll just save ’em until we’re cornered—­if we are.  Then they will tell.  Look, here are thorn bushes!  Come this way.”

They ran among the bushes which reached out and took little bits of their clothing as they passed.  But they rejoiced in the fact.  Horses could never be driven into that dense, thorny growth, and they might evade pursuers on foot.  The thorn thicket did not last very long, however.  They passed out of it and came into rough ground with a general trend upward.  Both were panting now and their faces were wet with perspiration.  The breath was dry and hot and the heart constricted painfully.  They heard behind them the noise of the pursuit, spread now over a wide area.

“If only these hills continue to rise and to rise fast,” gasped Obed White, “we may get away among the rocks and bushes.”