Ned was truly thankful now that Mexican custom and the coldness of the night permitted him to cover his face with his serape and the brim of his sombrero.
"Why are you walking here ?" demanded Urrea.
"I've just taken a message to General Castrillon," replied Ned.
He had learned already that Castrillon commanded the artillery, and as he was at least a mile away he thought this the safest reply.
"From whom ?" asked Urrea shortly.
"Pardon, sir," replied Ned, in his best Spanish, disguising his voice as much as possible, "but I am not allowed to tell." Ned's tone was courteous and apologetic, and in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred Urrea would have contented himself with an impatient word or two.

But he was in a most vicious temper.

Perhaps he had been rebuked by Santa Anna for allowing the rescue of Roylston.
"Why don't you speak up ?" he exclaimed.

"Why do you mumble your words, and why do you stand in such a slouching manner.

Remember that a soldier should stand up straight." "Yes, my captain," said Ned, but he did not change his attitude.