“Boys,” he said, “I’m the best shot of us three.  I don’t say it in any spirit of boastin’, ’cause I’ve pulled trigger about every day for thirty years, an’ more’n once a hundred times in one day.  Now you two give me your rifles and I’ll set here in the edge of the bushes, then you go ahead as silent as you can an’ cut the prisoners loose.  If there’s an alarm I’ll open fire with the three rifles and cover the escape.”

Handing the rifles to the Panther, the two slipped forward.  It was a grateful task to Ned.  Again his heart swelled with wrath as he saw the dark figures of the bound men lying on the ground in the rain.  He remembered the one who was youthful of face like himself and he sought him.  As he approached he made out a figure lying in a strained position, and he was sure that it was the captive lad.  A yard or two more and he knew absolutely.  He touched the boy on the shoulder, whispered in his ear that it was a friend, and, with one sweep of his knife, released his arms.

“Crawl to the chaparral there,” said Ned, in swift sharp tones, pointing the way.  “Another friend is waiting at that point.”

The boy, without a word, began to creep forward in a stiff and awkward fashion.  Ned turned to the next prisoner.  It was the elderly man whom he had seen from the chaparral, and he was wide awake, staring intently at Ned.

“Is it rescue?” he whispered.  “Is it possible?”

“It is rescue.  It is possible,” replied Ned, in a similar whisper.  “Turn a little to one side and I will cut the cords that bind you.”

The man turned, but when Ned freed him he whispered: 

“You will have to help me.  I cannot yet walk alone.  Urrea has already given me a taste of what I was to expect.”

Ned shuddered.  There was a terrible significance in the prisoner’s tone.  He assisted him to rise partly, but the man staggered.  It was evident that he could not walk.  He must help this man, but the others were waiting to be released also.  Then the good thought came.

“Wait a moment,” he said, and he cut the bonds of another man.

“Now you help your friend there,” he said.

He saw the two going away together, and he turned to the others.  He and Obed worked fast, and within five minutes the last man was released.  But as they crept back toward the chaparral the slack sentinels caught sight of the dusky figures retreating.  Two musket shots were fired and there were rapid shouts in Mexican jargon.  Ned and Obed rose to their feet and, keeping the escaped prisoners before them, ran for the thickets.

A terrific reply to the Mexican alarm came from the forest.  A volley of rifle and pistol shots was fired among the soldiers as they sprang to their feet and a tremendous voice roared: 

“At ’em, boys!  At ’em!  Charge ’em!  Now is your time!  Rip an’ t’ar an’ roar an’ chaw!  Don’t let a single one escape!  Sweep the scum off the face of the earth!”