"Now don't you try to talk yet a while, Ned," said Obed White, veiling
his feeling under a whimsical tone. "When people come back from the dead they don't always stay, and we want to keep you, as you're an enrolled member of this party. The news of your trip into the beyond and back again will keep, until we fix up something for you that will make you feel a lot stronger."
These frontiersmen never rode without an outfit, and Smith produced a small skillet from his kit. The Panther lighted a fire, Karnes chipped off some dried beef, and in a few minutes they had a fine soup, which Ned ate with relish. He sat with his back against a tree and his strength returned rapidly.
"I guess you can talk now, Ned," said Obed White. "You can tell us how you got away from the Alamo, and where you've been all the time."
Young Fulton's face clouded and Obed White saw his hands tremble.
"It isn't the Alamo," he said. "They died fighting there. It was Goliad."
"Goliad?" exclaimed "Deaf" Smith. "What do you mean?"
"I mean the slaughter, the massacre. All our men were led out. They were told that they were to go on parole. Then the whole Mexican army opened fire upon us at a range of only a few yards and the cavalry trod us down. We had no arms. We could not fight back. It was awful. I did not dream that such things could be. None of you will ever see what I've seen, and none of you will ever go through what I've gone through."
"Ned, you've had fever. It's a dream," said Obed White, incredulous.
"It is no dream. I broke through somehow, and got to the timber. Maybe a few others escaped in the same