“How’d you know?”
“Met Henry Karnes, and he told me they’d been ordered out to go with about a hundred men and find a new camping-place up-river. So I went straight to Colonel Bowie and asked him to take us, and he said he would if Captain Dickinson had no objection, and the captain said ‘All right,’ so I guess it is.”
“I should rather think it was!” rejoiced Ernest. “Leo’ll find he hasn’t any edge on us, won’t he!”
“He sure will,” agreed Jim, as they saddled up like lightning. “Huh! I’d as soon be under Bowie and Fannin as under Travis. That Jim Bowie doesn’t take back-water from anybody!”
“Who else is going?”
“I dunno. Karnes, and Dave Macomb the assistant adjutant, and a lot more.”
“Maybe we’ll ride clear into Bejar, then,” proposed Ernest, as they trotted to report.
“Bowie certainly knows the way,” agreed Jim.
“See you later, Dick,” called Ernest, as they passed Dick Carroll. “Off on a scout.”
“Good luck to you,” responded Dick, who evidently had missed this opportunity. And now, riding away thus on his own hook, Ernest felt grown and independent.