But while we may not be Texans, yet we will be right away." His eyes twinkled as he spoke, and Ned suddenly felt a strong liking for him.

He was not young and, despite his buckskin dress and careless grammar, there was something of the man of the world about him.

But he seemed to have a certain boyishness of spirit that appealed strongly to Ned.
"I s'pose," he continued, "that a baptism will make us genuine Texans, an' it 'pears likely to me that we'll get that most lastin' of all baptisms, a baptism of fire.

But me an' Betsy here stand ready for it." He patted lovingly the stock of his long rifle as he spoke the word "Betsy." It was the same word "Betsy" that gave Ned his sudden knowledge.
"I'm thinking that you are Davy Crockett," he said.
The man's face was illumined with an inimitable smile.
"Correct," he said.

"No more and no less.