The boy had shaded his eyes from the sun, and his uncommonly keen sight had detected the black moving speck before any of the others could see it.
"It's sure to be a Texan," said Obed.

"You won't find any Mexican riding alone on these plains just now." They rode forward to meet him and the horseman, who evidently had keen eyes, too, came forward with equal confidence.

It soon became obvious that he was a Texan as Obed had predicted.

His length of limb and body showed despite the fact that he was on horseback, and the long rifle that he carried across the saddle bow was of the frontier type.
"My name is Jim Potter," he said as he came within hailing distance.
"You're welcome, Jim Potter," said the Ring Tailed Panther.

"The long, red-headed man here on my right is Obed White, the boy is Ned Fulton; our young Mexican friend, who is a good Texan patriot, is Don Francisco Urrea, an' as for me, I'm Martin Palmer, better an' more properly known as the Ring Tailed Panther." "I've heard of you, Panther," said Potter, "and you and your friends are just the people I want." He spoke with great eagerness, and the soul of the Ring Tailed Panther, foreseeing an impending crisis of some kind, responded.
"What is it ?" he asked.
"A crowd is gathering to march on Goliad," replied Potter.