"Colonel," shouted Jim, "here's that buster boy again. He's been stealing ponies from the Greasers. He'll do."
"He will!" exclaimed Bowie, springing to his feet and coming forward.
In a few minutes more he said it again, and so did they all with emphasis, but the colonel added, gloomily,—
"It's almost sun-up, boys. What I want is to hear from Tetzcatl and Castro and the Lipans."
"Glad we've a lot of fresh mounts, anyhow," said Joe. "What we need most is to be able to git away."
"We will go to the river-bank first," said Bowie. "Castro is to meet us there. Even Tetzcatl believed the Lipans had gone across the river."
"If they did it's all day with them," replied Cheyne, but Red Wolf did not at all understand him. He was just then, under Colonel Bowie's instructions, selecting for his own use the very best of the fine animals he had so daringly captured and brought to camp.
The camp-fires were soon blazing, but little time could be given to breakfast. Their present position was too perilous. Parties of lancers would surely be out, and there were too many of them. Besides, there were the Comanches, and no man knew when or where they might make their appearance.
It was bright morning when the little cavalcade, with its fine supply of extra horses, filed out from among the woods and went slowly northward.
"I kind o' wish we were all back at the Alamo," remarked Joe.