They waited the full hour, and then they stole from the hay. Veramendi's house was silent and dark, and they passed safely into the street. Ned had a faint hope that Urrea would yet appear from some dark hiding place, but there was no sign of the young Mexican. They chose the boldest possible course, thinking that it would be safest, claiming to one soldier whom they passed that they were sentinels going to their duty at the farthest outposts. Luck, as it usually does, came to the aid of courage and skill, and they reached the outskirts of San Antonio, without any attempt at interference. Once more, after long and painful creeping, they stole between the sentinels, took mental note of the earthworks again, and also a last look at the dark bulk that was the town. "Poor Urrea!" said Ned. "Poor Urrea," said Obed. "I wonder what in the name of the moon and the stars gave the alarm!" "Poor Urrea!" said the Ring Tailed Panther. "This is the worst riddle I ever run up ag'inst an' the more I think about it the more riddlin' it gets." The three sighed together and then sped over the prairie toward the camp on the Salado. CHAPTER XIX THE BATTLE BY THE RIVER It was not yet daylight when they approached the Texan camp. Despite the fact that the Texan force was merely a band of volunteer soldiers there was an abundance of sentinels and they were halted when they were within a half mile of the Salado. But they were recognized quickly, and they passed within the lines, where, in the first rosy shoot of the dawn, they saw Bowie going the rounds of the outposts. "What!" he exclaimed. "Back already! Then you did not get into the town!" "We went right into it. We split it wide open," said the Ring Tailed Panther. Bowie's blue eyes glittered. "But you are only three," he said. "Where is Urrea?" "We lost him an' we don't know how it happened. We know that he's gone, an' that's all." Bowie took them to Mr. Austin's tent, where they told to him, Houston, Fannin and the others all that they had seen in San Antonio. In view of the fact, now clearly proved, that Cos was fortifying night and day, Bowie and all the more ardent spirits urged a prompt attack, but Mr. Austin, essentially a man of peace, hung back. He thought their force too small. He was confirmed, too, in the belief of his own unfitness to be a leader in war. "General," he said, turning to Houston, "you must take the command here. It would be impossible to find one better suited to the place." But Houston shook his head. He would not agree to it. Able and ambitious, he refused, nevertheless. Perhaps he did not yet understand the full fighting power of the Texans, and he feared to be identified with failure, in case they made the assault upon San Antonio.