Ned strained his ears, and he heard a faint far sound, musical like his own call. It seemed to him to be the note of a trumpet.
"Horsemen are coming," said Bowie, "and unless I am far wrong they are Texans. Ring again, Ned."
The bell boomed forth once more, and for the last time. Clear and sharp, came the peal of the trumpet in answer. One by one the men awoke. The light was now appearing in the East, the gray trembling into silver. From the valley came the rapid beat of hoofs, a rifle shot and then three or four more. Bowie ran out at the door, and Ned followed him. Across the meadows the Comanches scurried on their ponies, and a group of white men sent a volley after them. Then the white men galloped toward the convent. Bowie walked forward to meet them.
"You were never more welcome, Fannin," he said to the leader of the group.
The man sprang from his horse, and grasped Bowie's hand.
"We rode as fast as we could, but I didn't know it was you, Jim," he said. "Some of our scouts heard a bell somewhere playing The Star Spangled Banner in the night. We thought they were dreaming, but they swore to it. So we concluded it must be a call for help and I came with the troop that you see here. We lost the direction once or twice, but the bell called us back."
"For that," said Bowie, "you have to thank this boy here, a boy in years only, a man in action, and two men in mind and courage. This is Ned Fulton, Colonel Fannin."
Ned blushed and expostulated, but Bowie took nothing back. Fannin looked about him curiously.
"You seem to have had something of a fight here," he said. "Down in the grass and weeds we saw several Comanches who will trouble no more."
"We had all we wanted," said Bowie, "and we shall be glad to ride at once with you to camp. I bring some good men for the cause, and there are more behind."