So far, so good; and hot work had it been, for the Mexican soldiers shot shrewdly, battering every loophole in wall and parapet with their musket balls and thundering away with their cannon. This day, December 7, had been cold and rainy; dusk settled early. The trench, connecting the de la Garza house and the Veramendi house, was to the rear; directly across Soledad Street, from the small house, was a large green door, of planks, into the court of the Veramendi house. Chancing to peep out of the window where he was stationed, Ernest saw a figure spring boldly from the trench, and lay hand upon the door to push it back and enter. ’Twas Colonel Milam, himself, going over to confer with General Johnson. But even as his hand touched the planks, there was a volley of musket shots, and down plunged Ben Milam, in a crumpled, motionless heap. The door swung in, but too late, and other hands quickly dragged the colonel inside.
“Milam’s killed!” gasped Jim, at Ernest’s side. “They got him!”
“Did _you_ see it?” stammered Ernest. “Is he killed? Do you think he is, Jim?”
“He’s gone! What’d he try that for, anyway?” wailed Jim. And he added, furiously: “We’ll make those _hombres_ suffer for that!”
“They’ve been watching that door. They knew that was our way in,” reasoned Ernest.
Milam killed! Ben Milam killed! Gallant Ben Milam! The word spread amidst angry murmurs and threats. Soon, by the trench, arrived word that dead he was――slain instantly by a musket ball through the head. He was buried in the courtyard of the Veramendi house; and a council of officers chose Adjutant-General Johnson to succeed him as the commander.
“Angel Navarro’s house! Now for Navarro the political chief’s house! Let’s avenge Milam!” rose the cry.
The house of Jose Angel Navarro was across Acequia Street, on the right, and so far toward the plaza that one corner, the southwest, gave a view of the northeast corner of the military plaza itself. Volunteers were picked from the companies of Captains York, Crane, English and Llewyllen; into the darkness they bolted, crossed the street, and broke through the house walls of Angel Navarro, the political chief who had demanded the Gonzales six-pounder last September.