The boys understood the necessity of haste, and in less than fifteen minutes their foaming steeds brought them into the presence of Captain Truman, to whom they delivered their message. He had already reduced everything to a condition of order. The wounded had been removed to a deserted shanty, probably used by the railroad workmen, and the prisoners were surrounded by a guard of twenty men. All was quiet on the ground, and the captain was glad to receive the order brought by the messengers.
Lieutenant Blenks had already been placed in command of the camp, and the captain gave the order for Lieutenant Gadbury to have his men in marching order at once; and twenty men from the second platoon were added to their number. But Deck and Artie did not wait for this body to move, but started at once on their return; for they were anxious to be present in any engagement that might take place. They had little compassion for their horses, fond as they were of them, and dashed down the road at their best speed.
"Hi!" exclaimed Artie, as they reached the cross-road.
"What is it, Artie?" asked Deck, who was looking to the right.
"Don't you see? There are a couple of mounted men wearing the gray!" exclaimed Artie with energy.
"What are they?" asked Deck.
"What are they? It is as plain as a stone wall to a blind man after he has stumbled over it, that they are the Texans who are expected over here."
"Are there only two of them?" asked Deck facetiously. "Your head is level, Artie, and they are a couple of scouts who are feeling the way for a bigger body further back."
