before.

Ned's blood turned a little colder, and his scalp tingled. He was
startled but not afraid. He looked intently, and saw moving figures in
the river bed, keeping close against the bank. He could not see faces,
he could not even discern a clear outline of the figures, but he had no
doubt that these were Urrea's Mexicans. He waited only a moment longer
to assure himself that the dark moving line was fact and not fancy.
Then, aiming his rifle at the foremost shape, he fired. While the echo
of the sharp crack was yet speeding across the plain he cried:

"Up, men! up! Urrea is here!"

A volley came from the creek bed, but in an instant the Panther, Obed,
Will and Fields were by Ned's side.

"Down on your faces," cried the Panther, "an' pot 'em as they run! So
they thought to go aroun' the grove, come down from the north an'
surprise us this way! Give it to 'em, boys!"

The rifles flashed and the dark line in the bed of the creek now broke
into a huddle of flying forms. Three fell, but the rest ran, splashing
through the sand and water, until they turned the curve and were
protected from the deadly bullets. Then the Panther, calling to the
others, rushed to the other side of the grove, where a second attack,
led by Urrea in person, had been begun. Here men on horseback charged
directly at the wood, but they were met by a fire which emptied more
than one saddle.

Much of the charge was a blur to Ned, a medley of fire and smoke, of