But they forgot the pistols.

Ned snatched his from the holster, and fired directly into the evil face of a lancer who was about to crash into him.
The Mexican fell to the ground and his horse, swerving to one side, galloped on.
The pistols cracked all around Ned, and then, the Mexicans, sheering off, fled as rapidly as they had charged.

But they left several behind who would never charge again.
"All right, Ned ?" said the cheery voice of Obed.
"Not hurt at all," replied the boy.

But as he spoke he gazed down at the face of the man who had tried to crash into him, and he shuddered.

He knew that face.