They followed in the path of the flying Mexicans who, they were quite sure, would make for Cos and San Antonio. The Ring Tailed Panther knew the most direct course and as the moon was good they could also see the trail left by the Mexicans. It was marked further by grim objects, two wounded horses that had died in the flight, and then by a man succumbing, who had been buried in a grave so shallow that no one could help noticing it. A little after midnight they saw a light ahead, and they judged by the motions that a man was waving a torch. "It can't be a trap," said Obed, "because the Mexicans would not stop running until they were long past here." "An' there ain't no cover where that torch is," added the Ring Tailed Panther. "Then suppose we ride forward and see what it means," said Ned. They cocked their rifles, ready for combat if need be, and rode forward slowly. Soon they made out the figure of a man standing on a swell of the prairie, and vigorously waving a torch made of a dead stick lighted at one end. He had a rifle, but it leaned against a bush beside him. His belt held a pistol and knife, but his free hand made no movement toward them, as the three rode up. The man himself was young, slender, and of olive complexion with black hair and eyes. He was a Mexican, but he was dressed in the simple Texan style. Moreover, there were Mexicans born in Texas some of whom, belonging to the Liberal party, inclined to the Texan side. This man was distinctly handsome and the look with which he returned the gaze of the three was frank, free and open. "I saw you from afar," he said in excellent English. "I climbed the cottonwood there in order to see what might be passing on the prairie, and as my eyes happen to be very good I detected three black dots in the moonlight, coming out of the east. As I saw the men of Santa Anna going west as fast as hoofs would carry them I knew that only Texans could be riding out of the east." He laughed, threw his torch on the ground and stamped out the light. "I felt that sooner or later someone would come upon Castenada's track," he said, "and you see that I was not wrong." He smiled again. Ned's impression was distinctly favorable, and when he glanced at Obed and the Ring Tailed Panther he saw that they, too, were attracted. "Who are you, stranger?" asked Palmer. "People who meet by night in Texas in these times had best know the names and business of one another." "Not a doubt of it," replied the young Mexican. "My name is Francisco Urrea, and I was born on the Guadalupe. So, you see, I am a Texan, perhaps more truly a Texan than any of you, because I know by looking at you that all three of you were born in the States. As for my business?" He grew very serious and looked at the three one after another. "My business," he said, "is to fight for Texas." "Well spoke, by the great horn spoon," roared the Ring Tailed Panther.