was on his head, and a small gold hilted rapier swung by his side.

It may have been partly the effect of the night and the red flame, but
the face of Urrea had upon Ned an effect much like that of Santa Anna.
It was dark and handsome, but full of evil. And evil Ned knew Urrea to
be. No man with righteous blood in his veins would play the spy and
traitor as he had done.

"I could shoot him from here," whispered the Panther, who evidently was
influenced in a similar way, "then reach our horses an' get away. It
might be a good deed, an' it might save our lives, Ned, but I'm not able
to force myself to do it."

"Nor I," said Ned. "I can't shoot an enemy from ambush."

Urrea and the other men at the fire, all of whom were in the dress of
officers, were in a deep talk. Ned inferred that the subject must be of
much importance, since they sat awake, discussing it between midnight
and morning.

"Look beyond the fire at the figures leanin' against the trees,"
whispered the Panther.

Ned looked and hot anger rose in his veins.




CHAPTER II