“Where’s Leo Roark?” demanded Jim, as he and Ernest mingled with some of the Travis men. For Leo was nowhere in sight.
“Roark? He’s down toward San Felipe somewhere, by this time.”
“How’s that?”
“The delegates to the consultation left last night, and a lot of East Texas fellows went with ’em to guard ’em to San Felipe. So Leo joined with some of his own crowd, and mebbe he’ll go clear home to see how his folks are getting on. There wasn’t enough excitement hyar-abouts.”
“Aw, thunder! He said he’d stick,” complained Jim.
“He’ll be back. You can depend on that. You can’t keep any such lad away from a scrimmage long.”
“Where’s Sam Houston?” asked Ernest.
“Gone, with the other delegates, to tend the consultation, same as the rest of ’em. Somebody’s got to provide for this army, or there won’t be any army.”
“Jim Hill! Oh, Jim Hill!” shouted a shrill voice.