edge of the grove, but the Panther
and Ned, as arranged, were on the high bank overlooking the bed of the
creek. Now and then they walked back and forth, meeting at intervals,
but most of the time each kept to his own particular part of the ground.

Ned found an oak, blown down on the bank by some hurricane, and as there
was a comfortable seat on a bough with the trunk as a rest for his back
he remained there a long time. But his ease did not cause him to relax
his vigilance. He was looking toward the north, and he could see two
hundred yards or more up the creek bed to a point where it curved. The
bed itself was about thirty feet wide, although the water did not have a
width of more than ten feet.

Everything was now quite dry, as the wind had been blowing all day. But
the breeze had died with the night, and the camp was so still that Ned
could hear the faint trickle of the water over the sand. It was a fair
night, with a cold moon and cold stars looking down. The air was full
of chill, and Ned began to walk up and down again in order to keep warm.
He noticed Roylston still sitting with eyes wide open and the rifle
across his lap.

As Ned came near in his walk the merchant turned his bright eyes upon
him.

"I hear," he said, "that you have seen Santa Anna."

"More than once. Several times when I was a prisoner in Mexico, and
again when I was recaptured."

"What do you think of him?"

The gaze of the bright eyes fixed upon Ned became intense and
concentrated.

"A great man! A wickedly great man!"

Roylston turned his look away, and interlaced his fingers thoughtfully.

"A good description, I think," he said. "You have chosen your words
well. A singular compound is this Mexican, a mixture of greatness,
vanity and evil. I may talk to you more of him some day. But I tell you
now that I am particularly desirous of not being carried a prisoner to
him."

He lifted the rifle, put its stock to his shoulder, and drew a bead.

"I think I could hit at forty or fifty yards in this good moonlight," he
said.

He replaced the rifle across his knees and sighed. Ned was curious, but
he would not ask questions, and he walked back to his old position by
the bank. Here he made himself easy, and kept his eyes on the deep
trench that had been cut by the stream. The shadows were dark against
the bank, but it seemed to him that they were darker than they had been
before.

Ned's blood turned a little colder, and his scalp tin