A silk handkerchief about the head of one was hidden partly by a cocked hat, and Ned at once saw that it was Urrea, the younger.

His heart swelled with rage and mortification.

It was another grievous pang that Urrea should be there to exult.
They met about midway between the camps, and Urrea stepped forward.

He gave Ned only a single glance, but it made the boy writhe inwardly.

The young Mexican was now all smoothness and courtesy, although Ned was sure that the cruel Spanish strain was there, hidden under his smiling air, but ready to flame up at provocation.
"I salute you as gallant foes," said Urrea in good English, taking off his hat.