and drowned.

"I hope they'll think the sea got us," said Ned, "because then they
won't be searching about the country for us."

"We weren't destined to be drowned that time," said Obed with great
satisfaction. "It just couldn't happen after our running such a gauntlet
before reaching the sea. But the further we get away from salt water the
safer we are."

"It was my plan at first," said Ned, "to go by way of the sea from Vera
Cruz to a Texan port."

"Circumstances alter journeys. It can't be done now. We've got to cut
across country. It's something like a thousand miles to Texas, but I
think that you and I together, Ned, can make it."

Ned agreed. Certainly they had no chance now to slip through by the way
of Vera Cruz, and the sea was not his element anyhow.

The rain ceased, and a few stars came out. They passed from the sand
dunes into a region of marshes. Constant walking kept their blood warm,
and their clothes were drying upon them. But they were growing very
tired and they felt that they must rest and sleep even at the risk of
recapture.

"There's a lot of grass growing on the dry ground lying between the
marshes," said Ned, "and I suppose that the Mexicans cut it for the Vera
Cruz market. Maybe we can find something like a haystack or a windrow.
Dry grass makes a good bed."

They hunted over an hour and persistence was rewarded by a small heap of
dry grass in a little opening surrounded by thorn bushes. They spread
one covering of it on the ground, covered themselves to the mouth with
another layer, and then went sound asleep, the old, unloaded musket
lying by Obed White's side.

The two slept the sleep of deep exhaustion, the complete relaxation of
both body and mind. Boy and man they had passed through ordeals that few
can endure, but, healthy and strong, they suffered merely from weariness
and not from shattered nerves. So they slept peacefully and their
breathing was long and deep. They were warm as they lay with the grass
above and below them like two blankets. It had not rained much here,
and the grass had dried before their coming, so they were free from
danger of cold.

The night passed and the brilliant Mexican day came, touching with red
and gold the town that curved about the bay, and softening the tints of
the great fortress that rose on the rocky isle. All was quiet again
within San Juan de Ulua and Vera Cruz. It had become known in both
castle and town that two Texans, boy and man, h