no doubt of it.

There was another long wait, and the suspense became acute. The man was
surely on the other side of that curve waiting for him. He was held
fast. He was almost as much a prisoner as if he lay bound in the Mexican
camp. It seemed to him, too, that the darkness was thinning a little. It
would soon be day and then he could not escape the notice of horsemen
from Santa Anna's army. He decided that he must risk an advance and he
began creeping forward cautiously. He remembered now what he had
forgotten in the first moments of the meeting. He might yet, even
before this sentinel or scout, pass as a Mexican.

He stopped suddenly when he heard a low whistle in front of him. While
it could be heard but a short distance, it was singularly sweet. It
formed the first bars of an old tune, "The World Turned Upside Down,"
and Ned promptly recognized it. The whistle stopped in a moment or two,
but Ned took up the air and continued it for a few bars more. Then, all
apprehension gone, he sprang out of the arroyo and stood upon the bank.
Another figure was projected from the arroyo and stood upon the bank
facing him, not more than twenty feet away.

Simultaneously Obed White and Edward Fulton advanced, shook hands and
laughed.

"You kept me here waiting in this gully at least half an hour," said
Obed. "Time and I waited long on you."

"But no longer than I waited on you," said Ned. "Why didn't you think of
whistling the tune sooner?"

"Why didn't you?"

They laughed and shook hands again.

"At any rate, we're here together again, safe and unharmed," said Ned.
"And now to see what has become of the Panther."

"You'd better be lookin' out for yourselves instead of the Panther,"
growled a voice, as a gigantic figure upheaved itself from the arroyo
eight or ten yards behind them. "I could have picked you both off while
you were standin' there shakin' hands, an' neither of you would never
have knowed what struck him."

"The Panther!" they exclaimed joyously, and they shook hands with him
also.

"An' now," said the Panther, "it will soon be day. We'd better make fur
our horses an' then clear out. We kin tell 'bout what we've seen an'
done when we're two or three miles away."

They found the horses safe in the brushwood, Old Jack welcoming Ned with
a soft whinny. They were in the saddle at once, rode swiftly northward,
and none of them spoke for a half hour. When a faint tinge of gray
appeared on the eastern rim