The dictator was so absorbed in his triumph and his plans for his greater glory that for the time he forgot all about Ned Fulton, his youthful prisoner, who had crossed the stream and who was now in the town, attended by the two peons whom Urrea had detailed as his guards.  But Ned had come out of his daze, and his mind was as keen and alert as ever.  The effects of the great shock of horror remained.  His was not a bitter nature, but he could not help feeling an intense hatred of the Mexicans.  He was on the battle line, and he saw what they were doing.  He resolved that now was his time to escape, and in the great turmoil caused by the excitement and rejoicing in San Antonio he did not believe that it would be difficult.

He carefully cultivated the good graces of the two soldiers who were guarding him.  He bought for them mescal and other fiery drinks which were now being sold in view of the coming festival.  Their good nature increased and also their desire to get rid of a task that had been imposed upon them.  Why should they guard a boy when everybody else was getting ready to be merry?

They went toward the Main Plaza, and came to the Zambrano Row, where the Texans had fought their way when they took San Antonio months before.  Ned looked up at the buildings.  They were still dismantled.  Great holes were in the walls and the empty windows were like blind eyes.  He saw at once that their former inhabitants had not yet returned to them, and here he believed was his chance.

When they stood beside the first house he called the attention of his guards to some Mexican women who were decorating a doorway across the street.  When they looked he darted into the first of the houses in the Zambrano Row.  He entered a large room and at the corner saw a stairway.  He knew this place.  He had been here in the siege of San Antonio by the Texans, and now he had the advantage over his guards, who were probably strangers.

He rushed for the staircase and, just as he reached the top, one of the guards, who had followed as soon as they noticed the flight of the prisoner, fired his musket.  The discharge roared in the room, but the bullet struck the wall fully a foot away from the target.  Ned was on the second floor, and out of range the next moment.  He knew that the soldiers would follow him, and he passed through the great hole, broken by the Texans, into the next house.

Here he paused to listen, and he heard the two soldiers muttering and breathing heavily.  The distaste which they already felt for their task had become a deep disgust.  Why should they be deprived of their part in the festival to follow up a prisoner?  What did a single captive amount to, anyhow?  Even if he escaped now the great, the illustrious Santa Anna, whose eyes saw all things, would capture him later on when he swept all the scattered Texans into his basket.

Ned went from house to house through the holes broken in the party walls, and occasionally he heard his pursuers slouching along and grumbling.  At the fourth house he slipped out upon the roof, and lay flat near the stone coping.