"Out with it, colonel," came from across the table. "Let's have it all. We were having a blue time anyhow."
"Stingy! stingy! stingy!" roared Crockett. "Everybody's afraid to put in a cent. Not a dollar to be had, nor any pound of stuff without the dollars. You see, boys, the trouble is the news from Mexico. Santa Anna was at Monterey gathering his best troops and getting ready to come after us. Thar are several regiments already down near Matamoras on the coast getting supplies by the sea. Every friend of ours seems to be skeered. They reckon we'll be chawed up."
"Not so easy," came again from across the table. "I reckon the Greasers have got their work cut out."
"Travis," said Crockett, "I'm glad you're here. Have you heard from Bowie?"
"Not a word," replied Travis, "except that he and Castro had some kind of a brush with the Comanches, and another with Bravo's lancers. Reckon it was all right. He's just the kind of fellow to pull through."
Even while he spoke, however, the bright-faced ranger colonel caught Crockett's eye and sent him a look that prevented further questioning.
"Time for us to be moving," said Houston, steadily. "We'll gather what forces we can. The first thing is the Alamo. We can send a pretty good lot of rations."
"Powder!" said Travis, with energy, "What the Alamo needs is powder. And we want men enough to handle guns."
"You shall have them," said Houston. "Texas won't leave you in the lurch. Go and put things in as good condition as you can."
"All right," said Travis; but Crockett was eager to learn whatever news might be had around the table, and he lingered to get it all. At last he and Travis walked out into the open air, and they were no sooner alone than the latter turned and looked his friend in the face.