"We can't lose 'em," said the Panther, "so I think we'd better stay out
of sight now that they're on real Mexican soil. Maybe our chance will
come to-night, an' ag'in maybe it won't."

"Patience will have its perfect rescue, if we only do the right things,"
said Obed.

"An' if we think hard enough an' long enough we're bound to do 'em, or
I'm a Ring Tailed Panther an' a Cheerful Talker fur nothin'," said the
Panther.

Waiting until they were certain that the Mexicans were five or six miles
ahead, the three forded the Rio Grande, and stood once more on Mexican
soil. It gave Ned a curious thrill. He had passed through so much in
Mexico that he had not believed he would ever again enter that country.
The land on the Mexican side was about the same as that on the Texan,
but it seemed different to him. He beheld again that aspect of infinite
age, of the long weariness of time, and of physical decay.

They rode more briskly through the afternoon and at darkness saw the
camp fires of Urrea glimmering ahead of them. But the night was not
favorable to their plans. The sky was the usual cloudless blue of the
Mexican plateau, the moon was at the full and all the stars were out.
What they wanted was bad weather, hoping meanwhile the execution of the
prisoners would not be begun until the Mexicans reached higher authority
than Urrea, perhaps Santa Anna himself.

They made their own camp a full two miles from Urrea's, and Obed and the
Panther divided the watch.