Meanwhile, the country had been made exceedingly unsafe for Pierre Costello. The neighbors had turned out in force, every nook and corner of the mountains for miles around had been searched, and a large reward offered for the robber's apprehension; but it was all in vain. Nothing more had been heard of Pierre, and Frank hoped that he had seen him for the last time. Fate, however, had decreed that he was to have other adventures with the highwayman.



CHAPTER VIII.

COLONEL ARTHUR VANE.

We left Frank and Archie standing on the porch, watching the wild steer which was being led toward the cow-pen. As soon as they had got over their excitement, they remembered that they had saddled their horses for the purpose of riding over to visit their nearest neighbor, Johnny Harris, one of the boys whose daring horsemanship, and skill with the lasso, had so excited their admiration. Johnny lived four miles distant; but he and the cousins were together almost all the time. If Johnny was not at their house, Frank and Archie were at his; and when you saw one of the three, it was a sure sign that the others were not a great way off. Dick Thomas, of whom mention has been made, had been one of the party; but he was now on a visit to San Francisco and would not return until winter.

Had Frank and his cousin, while at home, been compelled to ride or walk four miles in search of a playmate, they might have been disposed to grumble over what they would have considered a very hard lot in life; but they had learned to think nothing of it. There were their horses always ready and willing, and half an hour's gallop over the prairie in the cool of the morning, or evening, was not looked upon as any thing very disagreeable. On this particular morning, Roderick and Marmion were impatient to exhibit their mettle; and even Sleepy Sam lifted his head and pawed the ground when Archie placed his foot in the stirrup. Scarcely waiting for their riders to become firmly seated in their saddles, the horses started down the road at a rattling pace, and the dog dashed through the bushes and grass on each side, driving the rabbits from their covers, and creating great consternation among flocks of quails and prairie-chickens, which flew up at his approach.

The farther the boys went, the faster they went; for Roderick and Sleepy Sam, warming at their work, and encouraged, perhaps, by some slight touches from their riders' spurs, increased their speed until they fairly flew over the ground; and Marmion, unwilling to remain behind, left the quails and rabbits to rest in security for that morning at least, and ran along beside his master, now and then looking up into his face, and uttering a little yelp, as if he were trying to tell how well he enjoyed the sport.

"Now, isn't this glorious?" exclaimed Archie, pulling off his sombrero, and holding open his jacket, to catch every breath of the fresh morning air. "Let's go faster. Yip! yip!"

The horses understood that yell. They had heard it before; and, knowing that it meant a race, they set off at the top of their speed. But the race was not a long one; for the old buffalo hunter, fast as he was, soon fell behind. The gray flew over the ground, as swiftly as a bird on the wing, and, after allowing him a free rein for a short distance, to show Archie how badly he could beat him, Frank stopped, and waited for him to come up.

The four miles were quickly accomplished, and, presently, the boys drew up at the door of Mr. Harris's farm-house, where they found Johnny waiting to receive them.

"How are you, strangers?" cried Johnny. "Get down and make those posts fast to your horses, and come in."

This was the way travelers were welcomed in that country, where every house was a hotel, and every farmer ready, at all times, to feed and shelter a stranger.

"How is the rifle-shot, this morning?" continued Johnny, as he shook hands with the boys; "and what news has the champion horseman to communicate?"

"I didn't claim to be the champion horseman," said Archie, quickly. "I am not conceited enough to believe that I can beat you riding wild horses, but I'll tell you what I can do, Johnny. In a fair race from here to the mountains, I can leave you a quarter of a mile behind."

"Well, come in, and wait till I saddle my horse, and we'll see about that," said Johnny. "Until you came here, I could beat any boy in the settlement. I give in to Frank, but I can show that ugly old buffalo hunter of yours a pretty pair of heels. Boys!" he added, suddenly, "my day's fun is all knocked in the head. See there!"

The cousins looked in the direction indicated, and saw a horseman approaching at a rapid gallop. He was mounted on a large iron-gray, which looked enough like Roderick to have been his brother, sat as straight as an arrow in his saddle, and managed his fiery charger with an ease and dexterity that showed him to be an accomplished rider.

"That's Colonel Arthur Vane—a neighbor with whom you are not yet acquainted," said Johnny, with strong emphasis on the word colonel. "He is from Kentucky. His father came to this country about six months since, and bought the rancho adjoining your uncle's. Arthur remained here long enough for Dick and me to become as well acquainted with him as we cared to be, and then went back to Kentucky to visit his friends. He returned a few days ago, and now we may make up our minds to have him for a companion."

"What sort of a fellow is he, Johnny?" asked Frank.

"I don't admire him," replied Johnny, who, like Archie, never hesitated to speak his mind very freely. "From what I have seen of him, I should say that he is not a boy who is calculated to make friends. He talks and brags too much. He tries to use big words in conversation, and criticises every one around him most unmercifully. He is one of those knowing fellows; but, after you have exchanged a few words with him, you will find that he doesn't know so very much after all. He has been all over the world, if we are to believe what he says, and has been the hero of adventures that throw your encounter with Pierre Costello into the shade. He carries no less than seven bullets in his body."

"Seven bullets!" echoed Archie. "Why, I should think they would kill him."

"So they would, most likely, if he only had them in him," replied Johnny. "He is a famous hunter and trapper, owns two splendid horses, a pack of hounds, three or four fine guns, and makes himself hot and happy in a suit of buckskin. If it were not for his smooth face and dandy airs, one would take him for some old mountain man. He gave Dick and me a short history of his life—which he will be sure to repeat for your benefit—and was foolish enough to believe that we were as green as two pumpkins because we had never been in the States, and that we would swallow any thing. But, if we have always lived in a wilderness, we have not neglected our books, and we are well enough posted to know that Arthur makes great mistakes sometimes."

"But why is your day's fun all knocked in the head?" asked Archie.

"Because I can't enjoy myself when Arthur is around. I am always afraid that I shall do or say something that he won't like. Every time I look at him, I am reminded of Byron's Corsair, who, you know, was

'—the mildest mannered man That ever scuttled ship or cut a throat.'

I don't mean to say that Arthur would cut any body's throat, but I do say that if he should happen to get angry at any of us, we shall wish him safe in Kentucky, where he belongs. I can't very well avoid introducing him, but, after what I have said, you will understand that I do not indorse him."

The conversation was brought to a close by the near approach of Arthur Vane, who presently dashed up to the porch, and dismounted. Frank and Archie made a rapid examination of the new-comer. He was dressed in a full suit of buckskin—hunting-shirt, leggins, and moccasins, the latter ornamented with bright-colored beads—which set off his tall, slender, well-knit frame to good advantage. He evidently possessed a fair share of muscle and agility, and that, according to Archie's way of thinking, was a great recommendation. He little dreamed that his own pluck, strength, and endurance would one day be severely tested by that boy in buckskin.

Arthur's weapons were objects of no less curiosity to the cousins than his dress. Instead of the short, light rifle in which the boys of that country took so much delight, and which was so handy to be used on horseback, he carried a double-barrel shot-gun as long as himself, elaborately ornamented, and the boys judged, from the way he handled it, that it must be very heavy. From his belt protruded the buckhorn handle of a sheath-knife, and the bright, polished head of an Indian tomahawk. The lasso was nowhere to be seen.

When the boys had noted these points, they glanced at the face of the new-comer. It was a handsome face, and might have made a favorable impression on them, had it not been for the haughty glances which its owner directed toward them as he rode up.

"He looks at us as though he thought we had no business here," whispered Archie, as Johnny went down the steps to receive the visitor.

"A second Charley Morgan," replied his cousin.

"If he is blessed with Morgan's amiable disposition," returned Archie, "we'll see fun before we are done with him."

"Frank Nelson," said Johnny, leading his visitor upon the porch, "this is our new neighbor, Arthur Vane."

"Colonel of the Second Kentucky Cavalry during the Florida war, and, for a short time captain of the scouts attached to the head-quarters of the general commanding the department of the plains," said Arthur, in dignified tones, drawing himself up to his full height, and looking at Frank as if to ask, What do you think of me, anyhow?

"How do you do?" said Frank, accepting Vane's proffered hand. He did not say that he was glad to see him, or happy to make his acquaintance, for he wasn't.

"Archie Winters, Colonel Vane," continued Johnny, "formerly commander of the Second Kentucky—ahem!"

Johnny was going on to repeat Arthur's pompous speech, when he saw Archie biting his lip, and knew that it was time for him to stop.

"How are you, Colonel?" said Archie, as sober as a judge.

"I can not complain of my health," replied Arthur, still holding Frank's hand with his right, while he extended his left to Archie, in much the same manner that a monarch might have given his hand to a kneeling subject. "The musket-ball that Osceola sent through my shoulder sometimes troubles me a little; but I am so accustomed to wounds that I scarcely mind it."

"How do you like California," inquired Frank, thinking that he ought to say something.

"O, I like the country well enough; but belonging, as I do, to one of the oldest and wealthiest families of the State of Kentucky, I can find no congenial society among these backwoodsmen."

Frank had no reply to make to this declaration. That one remark had revealed as much of the character of Arthur Vane as he cared to become acquainted with. The latter evidently looked upon himself as something better than the common herd of mankind, and Frank wondered why he did not stay at home, if he could find no pleasure in the society of the boys of that country.

"I have heard of you," continued Arthur, loftily; "and I understand that you are looked upon as a hero in this settlement."

"I do not claim the honor," modestly replied Frank.

"I have always observed," the visitor went on to say, "that the ideas which ignorant people entertain concerning heroes are ludicrous in the extreme. Now, I have met with more adventures than generally fall to the lot of mortals; but, being a modest young man, I have never allowed any one to apply that name to me. I have been in battles—desperate battles. I have seen the cheek of the bravest blanched with terror; but I never flinched. Twice have I been a prisoner in the hands of the Indians, and once I was bound to the stake. I have whipped a grizzly bear in a fair fight, with no weapon but my knife, and I can show seven honorable scars, made by as many bullets, which I carry in my body to-day."

Here Arthur stopped to take breath, and looked at his auditors as if waiting for applause. Frank and Archie had nothing to say, but Johnny observed:

"You have seen some rough times for one of your age."

"Rough!" repeated Arthur, with evident disgust. "Don't use such words—they are so vulgar. Thrilling, or exciting, would sound much better."

"I stand corrected," remarked Johnny, very gravely, while Archie coughed, and Frank turned away his head to conceal his laughter.

"I can not begin to convey to you even a slight idea of what I have endured," said Arthur, as if nothing had happened. "It is true that I am young in years, but I am old in experience. I have known every variety of danger incident to a reckless and roving life. I have skirmished with Arabs on the burning sands of Patagonia; have hunted the ferocious polar bear amid the icebergs of India; have followed lions and tigers through the jungles and forests of Europe; have risked my life in four different battles with the Algerines, and, on one occasion, was captured by those murderous villains. If adventures make the hero, I can certainly lay claim to that honor as well as anybody."

As the visitor ceased speaking, he looked suspiciously at the three boys before him, two of whom seemed to be strangely affected by the recital of his thrilling adventures. Frank had grown very red in the face, while Johnny was holding his handkerchief over his mouth, trying to restrain a violent fit of coughing with which he had suddenly been seized. Archie was the only one who could keep a straight face. He stood with his hands behind his back, his feet spread out, his sombrero pushed as far back on his head as he could get it, looking intently at Arthur, as if he were very much interested in what he was saying. He came to the relief of the others, however, by observing:

"If I had seen all those countries you speak of, Vane, I should be proud of it. No one delights more in truthful stories of adventure than I do, and, if you have no objection, we will sit down here and talk, while Johnny saddles his horse. We are going over to visit old Captain Porter. You will go with us, of course?"

"Certainly. I have often heard of Captain Porter, and I shall be pleased to make his acquaintance. He and I can talk over our adventures, and you can listen, and you will, no doubt, learn something."

Johnny, knowing that Frank wanted some excuse to get away where he could enjoy a hearty laugh, asked him to assist in catching his horse; and, together, they went toward the barn, leaving Archie behind to listen to Arthur's stories.



CHAPTER IX.

AN OLD BOY.

By the exercise of wonderful self-control, Frank and Johnny succeeded in restraining their risibilities until they reached the barn, and then one leaned against the door-post, while the other seated himself upon the floor, both holding their sides, and giving vent to peals of uproarious laughter.

"O dear!" exclaimed Frank, "I shall never dare look that fellow in the face again. 'Icebergs of India!' 'Burning sands of Patagonia!' How my jaws ache!"

"I wonder what part of Europe he visited to find his lions and tigers?" said Johnny. "And how do you suppose he escaped from the Indians when they had him bound to the stake? We must ask him about that."

"How old is he?" inquired Frank.

"He says he is sixteen."

"Well, he is older than that, if he risked his life in battles with the Algerians; for, if my memory serves me, Decatur settled our accounts with those gentlemen in the year 1815. That would make our new friend old enough to be a grandfather. He holds his age well, doesn't he?"

Then the two boys looked up at the rafters, and laughed louder than ever.

"I remember of hearing old Captain Porter say," observed Johnny, as soon as he could speak, "that the strongest and most active man that ever lived could not whip a grizzly in a fair fight; and that the bravest hunter would take to his heels if he found himself in close quarters with one of those animals, and would not think he was guilty of cowardice, either."

"And what I have seen with my own eyes confirms it," said Frank. "While we were camped at the Old Bear's Hole, Dick Lewis got into a fight with a grizzly, and, although it didn't last more than half a minute, he was so badly cut up that his own mother wouldn't have recognized him. Dick is a giant in strength, and as quick as a cat in his movements, and if he can't whip a grizzly, I am sure that Arthur Vane can't."

"Humph!" said Johnny, "he never saw a grizzly. I never did either, and there are plenty of them in this country. Arthur had better be careful how he talks in Captain Porter's hearing. The rough old fellow will see through him in an instant, and he may not be as careful of his feelings as we have been."

Johnny, having by this time saddled his horse, he and Frank returned to the house, where they found Archie deeply interested in one of Arthur's stories. "That is high up, I should think," they heard the former say.

"Yes, higher than the tops of these trees," replied Arthur. "I was relating some of the incidents of one of my voyages at sea," he continued, addressing himself to Frank. "I was telling Archie how I used to stand on the very top of the mast and look out for whales."

"Which mast?" asked Frank.

"Why, the middle mast, of course. What's the matter with you?" he added, turning suddenly upon Archie, who seemed to be on the point of strangling.

"Nothing," was the reply, "only something got stuck in my throat."

Arthur had taken up a dangerous subject when he began to talk about nautical matters; for they were something in which Frank and his cousin had always been interested, and were well posted. Archie lived in a sea-port town, and, although he had never been a sailor, he knew the names of all the ropes, and could talk as "salt" as any old tar. He knew, and so did Frank, that what Arthur had called the "middle mast," was known on shipboard as the mainmast. They knew that the "very top" of the mainmast was called the main truck; and that the look-outs were not generally stationed so high up in the world.

"We can talk as we ride along," said Johnny. "We have ten miles to go, and we ought to reach the captain's by twelve o'clock. The old fellow tells a capital story over his after-dinner pipe."

The boys mounted their horses, and, led by Johnny, galloped off in the direction of the old fur-trader's ranch. They rode in silence for a few minutes, and then Archie said:

"If you wouldn't think me too inquisitive, Arthur, I'd like to know at what age you began your travels?"

"At the age of eleven," was the prompt reply, "I was a midshipman in the navy, and made my first voyage under the gallant Decatur. I spent four years at sea with him, and during that time I had those terrible fights with the Algerines, of which I have before spoken. In the last battle, I was captured, and compelled to walk the plank."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Johnny, who had never devoted any of his time to yellow-covered literature.

"Why, you must know that the inhabitants of Algiers, and the adjacent countries, were, at one time, nothing but pirates. When they captured a vessel, their first hard work, after taking care of the valuable part of the cargo, was to dispose of their prisoners. It was too much trouble to set them ashore, so they balanced a plank out of one of the gangways—one end being out over the water, and the other on board the ship. The pirates placed their feet on the end inboard, to hold it in its place, and then ordered their prisoners, one at a time, to walk out on the plank. Of course, they were compelled to obey; and, when they got out to the end of the plank over the water, the pirates lifted up their feet, and down went the prisoners; and they generally found their way to the bottom in a hurry. I escaped by swimming. I was in the water twenty-four hours, and was picked up by a vessel bound to New York."

"I suppose you had a life-preserver," said Johnny.

"No, sir. I had nothing to depend upon but my own exertions."

"You must be some relation to a duck," said Archie, speaking before he thought.

"I suppose you mean to convey the idea that I am an excellent swimmer," said Arthur, turning around in his saddle, and looking sharply at Archie.

"Yes; that's what I intended to say," replied Archie, demurely.

"The vessel landed me in New York," continued Arthur, "and I went home; and, having become tired of wandering about, and our troubles with Algiers being settled, I led the quiet life of a student until the Florida war broke out, and then I enlisted in the army."

"Now, then," thought Archie, who had been paying strict attention to all Arthur said, "I have got a basis for a calculation, and I am going to find out how old this new friend of ours is. War was declared against Algeria (not Algiers) in March, 1815; and on the 30th day of June, in the same year, the Dey cried for quarter, and signed a treaty of peace. If Arthur began his wanderings at eleven, and spent four years with Decatur, he must have been fifteen years old when the war closed. After that, he led the quiet life of a student until the Florida war broke out. That commenced in 1835; so Arthur must have spent just twenty years at school. By the way, it's a great pity that he didn't devote a portion of his time to geography and natural history, for then he would have known that there are no icebergs and polar bears in India, or Arabs and burning sands in Patagonia, or wild lions and tigers in Europe. If he spent twenty years at school, and was fifteen years old when he had those terrible battles with the Algerians, he must have been thirty-five years old when the Florida war broke out."

"Did you go through the war?" Johnny asked.

"I did."

"How long did it last?" inquired Frank, "and what was the cause of it?"

"It continued nearly two years, and was brought about by the hatred the Choctaws cherished toward the white people."

"Three mistakes there," thought Archie. "The war lasted seven years, and cost our Government forty millions of dollars. The Choctaws had nothing to do with it. It was the Seminoles and Creeks—principally the former. The immediate cause of the trouble was the attempt on the part of the Government to remove those tribes to the country west of the Mississippi. They didn't want to go, and they were determined they wouldn't; and, consequently, they got themselves decently whipped. If Arthur was thirty-five years of age when he went into the war, and spent two years in it, he was thirty-seven when he came out."

"After the war closed," continued Arthur, "I went to Patagonia, and there I spent five years."

"Thirty-seven and five are forty-two," said Archie, to himself.

"I had a great many thrilling adventures in Patagonia. The country is one immense desert, and being directly under the equator, it is—if you will for once allow me to use a slang expression—as hot as a frying-pan. The Arabs are hostile, and are more troublesome than ever the Indians were on the plains. From Patagonia I went to Europe, and there I spent six years in hunting lions and tigers."

"Forty-eight," thought Archie; "and Patagonia isn't under the equator, either."

"That must have been exciting," said Frank, while Johnny looked over his shoulder, and grinned at Archie.

"It was indeed exciting, and dangerous, too. It takes a man with nerves of iron to stand perfectly still, and let a roaring lion walk up within ten paces of him, before he puts a bullet through his head."

"Could you do it?"

"Could I? I have done it more than once. If one of those ferocious animals were here now, I would give you a specimen of my shooting, which is an accomplishment in which I can not be beaten. I expect that you would be so badly frightened that you would desert me, and leave me to fight him alone."

"Wouldn't you run?"

"Not an inch."

"Would you fire that blunderbuss at him?" asked Johnny.

"Blunderbuss?" repeated Arthur.

"That shot-gun, I mean."

"Certainly I would. You see I have the nerve to do it. From Europe I went to India, and there I risked my life for six years more among the polar bears."

"Forty-eight and six are fifty-four," soliloquized Archie.

"After that I went to the plains, where I remained three years; and when the governor wrote to me that he was about to remove from Kentucky, I resigned my commission as captain of scouts, and here I am. I must confess that I am sorry enough for it; for I never saw a duller country than California. There's no society here, no excitement—nothing to stir up a fellow's blood."

"Fifty-four and three are fifty-seven," said Archie.

Arthur had evidently finished the history of his exploits, for he had nothing more to say just then. Archie, after waiting a few minutes for him to resume his narrative, pulled his sombrero down over his eyes, and thrust his hands into his pockets—two movements he always executed when he wished to concentrate his mind upon any thing—and began to ponder upon what he had just heard.

"Vane," said he, suddenly, an idea striking him, "who commanded your vessel when you were captured?"

Arthur knitted his brows, and looked down at the horn of his saddle, as if thinking intently, and finally said: "Why, it was Mr.—, Mr.—; I declare, I have forgotten his name."

Archie again relapsed into silence.

"We had two wars with those pirates," thought he. "The first was with Tripoli; but as that happened in 1805, Arthur, of course, could not have taken part in it, for he made his first voyage at sea in 1815. We lost but one vessel, and that was captured in 1803—two years before war with Tripoli was declared. It was the frigate Philadelphia, and she wasn't whipped, either, but was run aground while pursuing a piratical vessel. She was commanded by Captain Bainbridge, who surrendered himself and crew. They were not compelled to 'walk the plank,' however, but were reduced to a horrible captivity, and treated worse than dogs. The Tripolitans never got a chance to use the Philadelphia against us, for Decatur—who was at that time a lieutenant serving under Commodore Preble, who commanded our navy in those waters—boarded her one night with twenty men while she was lying in the harbor, swept the deck of more than double that number of pirates, burned the vessel under their very noses, and returned to his ship with only one man wounded. I never did care much for history, but a fellow finds a great deal of satisfaction sometimes in knowing a little about it."

Archie had at first been highly amused by what Arthur had to say; but now, that the novelty had somewhat worn off, he began to wonder how it was possible for a boy to look another in the face and tell such improbable stories. If Arthur was not ashamed of himself Archie was heartily ashamed for him, and he was more than half inclined to put spurs to Sleepy Sam and start for home. He was not fond of such company.

Arthur Vane is not an imaginary character. There are a great many like him in the world, boys, and men, too, who endeavor to make amends for the absence of real merit by recounting just such impossible exploits. The result, however, is always the exact reverse of what they wish it to be. Instead of impressing their auditors with a sense of their great importance, they only succeed in awakening in their minds feelings of pity and contempt.

After Arthur had finished the history of his life, he rode along whistling snatches of the "Hunter's Chorus," happy in the belief that his reputation was established. Well, it was established, but how? Archie thought: "Brag is a splendid dog, but Holdfast is better. Perhaps we may have a chance to test the courage of this mighty man of valor."

Johnny soliloquized: "Does this fellow imagine that we are green enough to believe that he would stand and let a lion walk up within ten paces of him? Hump! a good-sized rabbit would scare him to death."

Frank, who had taken but little part in the conversation, told himself that he had never become acquainted with a boy as deserving of pity as was Arthur Vane. He was not a desirable companion, and Frank hoped that he would not often be thrown into his society.

For a long time the boys rode in silence, keeping their horses in an easy gallop, and presently they entered the woods that fringed the base of the mountains, through which ran a bridle-path that led toward the old fur-trader's ranch. Two young hounds belonging to Johnny led the way, Johnny came next, and Frank and Archie brought up the rear. They had ridden in this order for a short distance, when the singular movements of the hounds attracted their attention, and caused them to draw rein. The dogs stood in the path, snuffing the air, and gazing intently at the bushes in advance of them, and then, suddenly uttering a dismal howl, they ran back to the boys, and took refuge behind them. At the same instant, the horse on which Johnny was mounted arose on his hind feet, turned square around, and, in spite of all the efforts of his rider to stop him, dashed by the others, and went down the path at the top of his speed.

"Good-by, fellows," shouted Johnny; "and look out for yourselves, for there is"—

What else Johnny said the boys could not understand, for the clatter of his horse's hoofs drowned his voice, and in a moment he was out of sight among the trees.

"There's something in those bushes," said Frank, with difficulty restraining his own horse, which seemed determined to follow Johnny, "and who knows but it might be a grizzly?"

"I am quite sure it is," said Archie. "Don't you remember how badly frightened Pete used to be when there was one of those varmints around?"

As Archie said this, the bushes were violently agitated, and the twigs cracked and snapped as if some heavy body was forcing its way through them. The hounds, waiting to hear no more, turned and fled down the path, leaving the boys to themselves. Frank turned and looked at Arthur. Could it be possible that the pale, terror-stricken youth he saw before him was the one who but a few moments ago had boasted so loudly of his courage? That noise in the bushes had produced a great change in him.



CHAPTER X.

ARTHUR SHOWS HIS COURAGE

It must not be supposed that Frank and Archie were entirely unmoved by what had just happened. The strange conduct of the hounds, and the desperate flight of Johnny's horse, were enough to satisfy them that there was some dangerous animal in the bushes in front of them, and the uncertainty of what that animal might be, caused them no little uneasiness. Grizzly bears were frequently met with among the mountains, and they sometimes extended their excursions into the plains, occasioning a general stampede among the stock of the nearest ranch. The grizzly is as much the king of beasts in his own country as the lion in Africa and Asia; and Frank and Archie, during their sojourn at the Old Bear's Hole, had become well enough acquainted with his habits and disposition to know that, if their enemy in the bushes belonged to that species, they were in a dangerous neighborhood. The grizzly might, at any moment, assume the offensive, and in that event, if their horses became entangled in the bushes, or were rendered unmanageable by fright, their destruction was certain. This knowledge caused their hearts to beat a trifle faster than usual, and Frank's hand trembled a little as he unbuckled the holsters in front of his saddle, and grasped one of his revolvers. But neither he nor Archie had any intention of discontinuing their journey, or of leaving the field without having at least one shot at the animal, whatever it might be.

"Now, boys," said Frank, in an excited whisper, "we have a splendid chance to immortalize ourselves. If that is a grizzly, and we should be fortunate enough to kill him, it would be something worth bragging about, wouldn't it? If I only had my rifle!"

"We must rely upon our friend, here," said Archie. "It's lucky that he is with us, for he is an old hunter, and he won't mind riding into the bushes, and driving him out—will you, Arthur?"

"Eh!" exclaimed that young gentleman, who trembled so violently that he could scarcely hold his reins.

"I say, that, as you are the most experienced in such matters, we shall be obliged to depend upon you to drive the bear out of the bushes into open ground," repeated Archie, who did not appear to notice his friend's trepidation. "We can't all go in there to attack him, for he would be sure to catch some of us. What have you in that gun?"

"B-u-c-k-s-h-o-t," replied Arthur, in an almost inaudible voice. "Let's go home."

"Go home!" exclaimed Frank; "and without even one shot at that fellow! No, sir. You've got the only gun in the party, and, of course, you are the one to attack him. Go right up the path, and when you see him, bang away."

"How big is he?" asked Arthur.

"Why, if he is a full-grown grizzly, he is as big as a cow."

"Will he fight much?"

"I should say he would," answered Archie, who was somewhat surprised at these questions. "Have you forgotten the one you killed with your knife? He will be certain to follow you, if you don't disable him at the first shot, but he can't catch your horse. Besides, as soon as he comes in sight, Frank and I will give him a volley from our revolvers. You are not afraid?"

"Afraid!" repeated Arthur, compressing his lips, and scowling fiercely. "O, no."

"Well, then, make haste," said Frank, who was beginning to get impatient. "Ride up within ten paces of him, and let him have it. That's the way you used to serve the lions in Europe."

"Yes, go on," urged Archie; and he gave Arthur's horse a cut with his whip, to hurry him up.

"O, stop that!" whined Arthur, as the horse sprang forward so suddenly that his rider was nearly unseated. "I am going home."

What might have happened next, it is impossible to tell, had not the boys' attention been turned from Arthur by the yelping of a dog in the bushes a short distance up the mountain.

"That's Carlo," exclaimed Archie. "Now we will soon know what sort of an enemy we have to deal with."

The dog was evidently following the trail of the bear, for he broke out into a continuous baying, which grew louder and fiercer as he approached. The bear heard it, and was either making efforts to escape, or preparing to defend himself; for he thrashed about among the bushes in a way that quite bewildered Frank and Archie, who drew their revolvers, and turned their horses' heads down the path, ready to fight or run, as they might find it necessary. An instant afterward, a large, tan-colored hound bounded across the path, and dashed into the bushes where the game was concealed. It was not one of those which had so disgracefully left the field a few moments before—it was Carlo, Johnny's favorite hound—an animal whose strength had been tested in many a desperate encounter, and which had never been found wanting in courage. Scarcely had he disappeared when Marmion came in sight, also following the trail. He ran with his nose close to the ground, the hair on his back standing straight up like the quills on a porcupine, and his whole appearance indicating great rage and excitement.

"Hi! hi!" yelled Frank. "Take hold of him, you rascal! Now's your time, Arthur. Ride up and give him the contents of your double-barrel; only, be careful, and don't shoot the dogs."

For an instant, it seemed as if Arthur's courage had returned, and that he was about to yield to the entreaties of his companions. He straightened up in his saddle, and, assuming what he, no doubt, imagined to be a very determined look, was on the point of urging his horse forward, when suddenly there arose from the woods a chorus of yells, and snarls, and growls, that made the cold chills creep all over him, and caused him to forget every thing in the desire to put a safe distance between himself and the terrible animal in the bushes. Acting on the impulse of the moment, he wheeled his horse, and, before Frank or Archie could utter a word, he shot by them, and disappeared down the path.

For a moment, the two boys, forgetting that a furious battle was going on a little way from them, gazed at each other in blank amazement. The mighty hunter, who had boasted of whipping a grizzly-bear in a fair fight, with no weapon but his knife, had fled ingloriously, without having seen any thing to be frightened at.

"That's one lie nailed," said Frank.

"More than one, I should think," returned Archie, contemptuously. "I shall have nothing more to do with that fellow. This is the end of my acquaintance with him."

No doubt Archie was in earnest when he said this; but, had he been able to look into the future, he would have discovered that he was destined to have a great deal more to do with Arthur Vane. Instead of being the end of his acquaintance with that young gentleman, it was only the beginning of it.

Meanwhile, the fight in the bushes, desperate as it was, judging by the noise it occasioned, was ended, and Arthur had scarcely disappeared when Marmion and Carlo walked out into the path, and, after looking up at the boys, and giving their tails a few jerks, as if to say "We've done it!" seated themselves on their haunches, and awaited further orders. Archie threw his reins to his cousin, and, springing out of his saddle, went forward to survey the scene of the conflict. He was gone but a moment, and when he came out of the bushes, he was dragging after him—not a grizzly bear, but a large gray wolf, which had been overpowered and killed by the dogs. One of the wolf's hind-legs was caught in a trap, to which was fastened a short piece of chain and a clog. The animal had doubtless been paying his respects to some sheep-fold during the night, and had put his foot into the trap while searching for his supper. He had retreated toward the mountains, and had dragged the trap until the clog caught, and held him fast. That was the reason he did not run off when the boys came up, and the commotion in the bushes had been caused by his efforts to free himself.

While the boys were examining their prize, Johnny, having succeeded in stopping his frantic horse, was returning to the place from which he had started on his involuntary ride. As he was about to enter the woods at the base of the mountains, he saw a horse emerge from the trees, and come toward him at a rapid gallop. His bridle was flying loose in the wind, and Johnny at first thought he was running away; but a second glance showed him that there was somebody on his back.

"Stampeded," thought Johnny. "If I am laughed at, it will be some consolation to know that I am not alone in my misery."

The rider of the stampeded horse was bent almost double; his feet were out of the stirrups, which were being thrown wildly about; both hands were holding fast to the horn of the saddle; his face was deadly pale, and, altogether, he presented the appearance of one who had been thoroughly alarmed. Although he looked very unlike the dignified Arthur Vane, who had ridden so gayly over that road but a few moments before, Johnny recognized him at once; and the first thought that flashed through his mind was that something terrible had happened to Frank and Archie.

"What's the matter?" asked Johnny, pulling up his horse with a jerk.

"Grizzly bears!" shouted Arthur, in reply, without attempting to check his headlong flight.

"Grizzly bears!" echoed Johnny, in dismay. "And are you going off without trying to help those boys? Stop, and go back with me."

But Arthur was past stopping, either by ability or inclination. Digging his spurs into the sides of his horse, which was already going at the top of his speed, he went by Johnny like the wind, and in a moment was so far away that it was useless to make any further attempts to stop him. For an instant, Johnny was irresolute; then he turned in his saddle, and shouted one word, which the wind caught up and carried to the ears of the flying horseman, and which did much to bring about the events we have yet to describe.

"Coward!" yelled Johnny, with all the strength of his lungs.

Having thus given utterance to his opinion of Arthur Vane, he put spurs to his horse and galloped into the woods, hoping to reach the scene of the conflict in time to be of service to his friends. But, as we know, the grizzly bear had proved to be a wolf, and had already been killed by the dogs.



CHAPTER XI.

ARTHUR PLANS REVENGE.

Meanwhile, Arthur Vane continued his mad flight toward the settlement. His hat was gone, his fine shot-gun had been thrown aside as a useless incumbrance, and his tomahawk and knife had dropped out of his belt; but he was too frightened to stop to pick them up. No pause he knew until he reached Mr. Harris's rancho, where he reined up his panting horse, and electrified the family by shouting through the open window:

"Grizzly bears! Grizzly bears!"

"Where?" breathlessly inquired Mr. Harris, running out on the porch.

Before Arthur could reply, Johnny's mother appeared; and a single glance at the frightened hunter and his dripping steed, was enough to awaken in her mind the most terrible apprehensions. She knew, instinctively, that something dreadful had happened.

"O, my son!" she screamed, sinking down on the porch, and covering her face with her hands.

Mr. Harris did not stop to ask any questions then. He knew the route the boys had taken in the morning, and his first thought was to start for the scene of the conflict, although he had little hopes of arriving in time to be of any assistance to the young hunters.

"Jose!" he shouted to one of his Rancheros, who happened to pass by the house at that moment, "call all the men to saddle up at once. The boys have been attacked by a grizzly in the mountains."

The gentleman carried his fainting wife into the house, and presently re-appeared with a brace of revolvers strapped to his waist, and a rifle in his hand.

"Did you see any of the boys hurt?"

He asked this question in a firm voice; but his pale face and quivering lips showed that the news he had just received had not been without its effect upon him.

"No, sir," replied Arthur. "My horse ran away with me; but I heard the fight, and I know that the dogs were all cut to pieces. The bear was an awful monster—as large as an ox; and such teeth and claws as he had! I never saw the like in all my hunting."

In a few moments, half a dozen herdsmen, all well armed, galloped up, one of them leading his employer's horse.

"Vane," said Mr. Harris, as he sprang into his saddle, "you will stop on your way home, and tell Mr. Winters, will you not?"

Arthur replied by putting spurs to his horse, and in a few moments he was standing in Mr. Winters's court, spreading consternation among the people of the rancho. Dick and Bob were there; but, unlike the rest of the herdsmen, they seemed to be but little affected by Arthur's story.

"You'll never see those boys again," said the latter, winding up his narrative with a description of the bear by which they had been attacked.

"Now, don't you be anyways oneasy," replied Dick, hurrying off to saddle his horse. "If it war a grizzly, he's dead enough by this time, for I knowed them youngsters long afore you sot eyes on to 'em, an' I know what they can do. Didn't I tell you, 'Squire," he added, turning to Mr. Winters, who was pacing anxiously up and down the porch, "that Frank would come out all right when he war stampeded with them buffaler? Wal, I tell you the same now."

Arthur remained at the rancho until Uncle James and his herdsmen set out for the mountains, and then turned his face homeward.

It is a rule that seldom fails, that when one meets a braggadocio, he can put him down as a coward. We have seen that it held good in Arthur's case; for, although he had not caught the smallest glimpse of the animal in the bushes, he was so terrified that he had run his horse eight miles; and, while he was plunging his spurs into the gray's sides at almost every jump, he imagined that the animal was running away with him. He was so badly frightened that he did not pause to consider that he might have occasioned a great deal of unnecessary anxiety and alarm by the stories he had circulated. He really believed that every word he had uttered was the truth; and he reached this conclusion by a process of reasoning perfectly satisfactory to himself. He had heard the growls and snarls uttered by the animal in the bushes, when attacked by the dogs, and they were so appalling, that he felt safe in believing that they came from some terrible monster. The conduct of the hounds, and of Johnny's horse, confirmed this opinion. Besides, Frank and Archie had pronounced the animal a grizzly, and Arthur was quite sure it was; for nothing else, except a lion or tiger, could have uttered such growls. He had heard that grizzlies were very tenacious of life, and hard to whip, and, consequently, it followed, as a thing of course, that Frank and Archie, and the dogs, were utterly annihilated.

"I'm safe, thank goodness!" said Arthur, to himself. "If those fellows were foolish enough to stay there and be clawed to pieces, that's their lookout and not mine. Johnny Harris insulted me by calling me a coward. He may escape from the bear, and if he does, I shall think up a plan to punish him."

When Arthur reached home, he repeated his story as he had told it to Mr. Harris and Uncle James, and he straightway found himself a hero. He had seen a grizzly bear with terrible claws, and a frightful array of teeth; his horse had run away with him, and carried him eight miles before he could stop him, and he had come home with a whole skin. It was wonderful.

Arthur threw on airs accordingly. He strutted about among the herdsmen, and entertained his servant, a Mexican boy about his own age, named Pedro, with a description of the fight, in which he had seen four fierce dogs completely demolished.

Pedro complimented him highly, and the Rancheros called him a brave lad—although Arthur himself failed to see what he had done that was deserving of praise. He went to bed in excellent spirits, and was awakened in the morning, about daylight, by Pedro, who came into his room, carrying in his hand a double-barreled shot-gun, a tomahawk, and sheath-knife, and, under his arm, he held a hat, and a bundle wrapped up in a newspaper. Pedro held his sombrero over his face, so that nothing could be seen but his eyes, which were brimful of laughter.

"Now, then," exclaimed Arthur, raising himself on his elbow, and looking fiercely at the boy, "what do you want in here at this barbarous hour, and what are you grinning at?"

"Why, sir—the bear, you know; it wasn't a bear after all," stammered Pedro, in reply.

"It wasn't! I say it was. Didn't I see him with my own eyes, and hear him growl with my own ears? Take that hat down from your face, and stop your laughing."

Pedro obeyed. He placed the bundle on a chair beside the bed, leaned the gun up in one corner, deposited the other articles upon the table, and then pulled out of his pocket a note which he handed to Arthur.

"Now take yourself off," commanded that young gentleman.

Pedro vanished, and Arthur heard him laughing to himself as he passed through the hall.

"What does the rascal mean, I wonder; and who can be writing to me so early in the morning?"

Arthur looked at the bundle, which lay on the chair beside him, felt of it with his fingers, and then turned his attention to the note, which ran as follows:

"Frank, Archie, and Johnny present their compliments to Colonel Vane, and beg leave to inform him that, after a struggle unequaled in the annals of hunting, they succeeded in dispatching the monster by which they were attacked yesterday. They are, also, happy to announce that the dogs, which were so badly cut up during the fight, have so far recovered as to be out, and to take their regular rations. They request the Colonel to accept the accompanying articles, including the skin of the grizzly bear, and to preserve them as mementoes of the most exciting event of his life. They sincerely hope that the Colonel sustained no injury during his ride on his runaway horse."

Arthur read this letter over twice, and, although he made no comments upon it, it was easy enough to see that he was highly enraged. He sat up in the bed, and, with trembling hands, tore off the covering of the bundle, and discovered the skin of the gray wolf.

"By gracious!" exclaimed Arthur, jumping out on the floor. "Was a gentleman ever before so insulted? That little Yankee, Archie Winters, is at the bottom of all this, and if he don't suffer for it, I'll know the reason why."

He tore the note into fragments, pitched the bundle out of the window, and walked angrily about the room, shaking his fists in the air, and threatening all sorts of vengeance against Archie and his two friends. If he had been in his sober senses, he would have felt heartily ashamed of himself; but the note had opened his eyes to the fact that he had sadly injured his reputation, and he was angry at his companions because he had done so—although how they could be blamed for that, it would have puzzled a sensible boy to determine. But, after all, his case was not an isolated one. It is by no means uncommon for boys, when they get angry, to revenge themselves upon some innocent thing. We remember that, on a certain rainy day, several boys were congregated in a barn, amusing themselves by turning hand-springs. One clumsy fellow, whose feet were so heavy that he could not get them over his head, became greatly enraged at his failures, and finally tried to soothe his wounded pride by whipping one of his companions.

Arthur was actuated by the same spirit. He walked up and down his room for a long time, trying to make up his mind what he should do, and, when he was called to breakfast, he had decided upon a plan of operations, which promised to make Archie and his friends a great deal of trouble.

"I'll be revenged upon the whole lot of them at once," said Arthur, to himself. "Upon Johnny Harris, for calling me a coward; upon Archie Winters, for writing me that note—for I know he did it, although Johnny's name does come last—and upon Frank Nelson, for being a friend to those fellows, and for being so stuck up. He scarcely spoke to me yesterday, and I won't stand such treatment from any boy. I'll teach these backwoodsmen to insult a gentleman!"

"Well, Arthur," said Mr. Vane, as the boy seated himself at the table, "you must have looked through a very badly-frightened pair of eyes, to make a grizzly bear out of a wolf."

"Who told you it was a wolf?" asked Arthur, gruffly.

"One of Mr. Winters's herdsmen—Dick Lewis, I believe, they call him. He came over this morning to bring your weapons and hat."

Dick despised a coward quite as much as he admired a boy of spirit and courage, and it is certain that the story, as he had heard it from Frank and Archie, lost nothing in passing through his hands. He first told it to Mr. Vane, as he handed him the articles he had brought, and then repeated it to one of the Rancheros; and, by the time Arthur had finished his breakfast, the occurrences of the previous day were known to every one on the rancho. Pedro laughed when he brought out Arthur's horse, and the herdsmen, as he rode through their quarters, exchanged winks with one another, and made a great many remarks about grizzly bears, especially concerning the one Arthur had seen the day before. There was one man, however, who took no part in the joking and laughing, and that was Joaquin, who was just mounting his horse to drive up some stock.

"Don't mind them," said he, as Arthur rode beside him. "They are a set of blackguards, and don't know how to treat a gentleman."

"Now, that's like a true friend," replied Arthur. "You're the only one I have on the ranch."

Joaquin was a villainous-looking Mexican, and since he had been in Mr. Vane's employ, he had had little to do with the other herdsmen. He seemed to prefer to be alone, unless he could have Arthur for company. He always took a great deal of interest in the boy's affairs, and it was from his lips that Arthur had heard the story of Frank's adventures with Pierre Costello. Joaquin had gained Arthur's good will by confiding to him a great many secrets, and one day he went so far as to confess that Pierre was his particular friend, and that, if he felt so disposed, he could point out the cave in the mountains where the robber was concealed, and tell who it was that supplied him with food, and kept him posted in all that happened in the settlement. Joaquin might have added, further, that he himself had held several long interviews with Pierre of late, and had talked over with him certain plans, in which Arthur Vane and his three companions of the previous day bore prominent parts. But this was one secret that the Ranchero kept to himself.

"If you know where the robber is hidden, why don't you tell Mr. Winters, and claim the reward?" Arthur had one day asked Joaquin.

"What! betray my best friend!" exclaimed that worthy, in great astonishment. "I am not base enough to abuse any man's confidence. Do you suppose that if you were in Pierre's place, and I knew where you were concealed, that I could be hired to play false to you? No, sir!"

Arthur remembered this remark, and on this particular morning, as he rode out with the Ranchero, he called the latter's attention to it, and asked if he could trust him. The reply was a strong affirmative, which satisfied Arthur that he might speak freely, and the result was, the revelation of his plan for taking revenge on Frank, Johnny, and Archie. Joaquin listened attentively, and Arthur was delighted at the readiness, and even eagerness, with which the herdsman fell in with his ideas, and promised his assistance. He had one amendment to propose, that did not exactly suit Arthur; but, after a little argument, he agreed to it. They talked the matter over for half an hour, and then Arthur started for home, and the Ranchero galloped off to attend to his stock.

That night, after all his companions were asleep, Joaquin crept quietly out of his quarters, and, after saddling his horse, rode toward the mountains. He was gone nearly all night, but returned in time to get to bed before the herdsmen awoke; and, when he arose with the others, none of them knew that he had been away from the rancho. Arthur Vane must have known something about it, however, for the next morning, as soon as he had eaten his breakfast, he mounted his horse, and overtook Joaquin, just as he was leaving his quarters.

"Well!" said Arthur.

The Ranchero looked suspiciously about him, and, finding that there was no one within sight or hearing, he detached his knife and sheath from his belt, produced a folded paper from the crown of his sombrero, and handed them both to Arthur, saying, in a suppressed whisper:

"It's all right."

"Did you see him?" asked Arthur, eagerly.

"I did, and he says your plan is an excellent one, and he will help you to carry it out. The black line on that paper points out the road you are to follow; the light lines, that branch off from it, are old bridle-paths. Look at the paper often, and you can't get lost. He has never seen you, you know, and, when you find him, you must show him my knife to prove that you are a friend. Bear one thing in mind, now, and that is, you are playing a dangerous game, and if you are found out, the country around here will be too hot to hold you. Remember that I am your only friend in this matter, and say nothing to nobody except me."

With this piece of advice, the Ranchero galloped off, and Arthur, after placing the knife in his belt, and putting the paper carefully away in his pocket, rode toward the mountains.

During the next few hours, Arthur consulted his paper frequently, and, about noon, he was standing at the base of a precipitous cliff, twenty miles from home, examining the natural features of the place, and comparing them with his diagram. He saw no one; but half way up the cliff was a huge bowlder, over which peered a pair of eyes that were closely watching every move he made; and, when Arthur whistled twice, the eyes disappeared, and a man stepped from behind the rock, and said, in a gruff voice:

"Who are you, and what do you want here?"

"Are you Pierre Costello?" asked Arthur.

"Well, now, that's no concern of yours," replied the man. "Who are you?" As he spoke, he drew a revolver from his sash, and rested it on the rock beside him, the muzzle pointing straight at the boy's head.

"Don't!" cried Arthur, turning pale, and stepping back. "I am Arthur Vane, and I have come here to have a talk with you. Here is Joaquin's knife, which will prove that I am all right."

The man returned his revolver to his belt, and came down the cliff; and, presently, Arthur found himself standing face to face with a live robber.

"I am Pierre Costello," said the latter; "and I was waiting for you."



CHAPTER XII.

OFF FOR THE MOUNTAINS.

Arthur looked at the robber with curiosity. Yellow-covered novels had always been his favorite reading, and highwaymen, brigands, and pirates were, in his estimation, the only heroes worthy of emulation. Pierre, but for one thing, would have come up to his beau ideal of a robber. He was loaded with weapons, and he was tall and broad-shouldered, sported a ferocious mustache, and his hair fell down upon his shoulders. He was dressed in the gayest Mexican style, but his clothing had seen long service, and was not quite as neat as Arthur would have liked to have seen it. It was plain that Pierre did not waste much time upon his toilet; but, after all, he was a very good-looking villain.

The robber was quite as much interested in his visitor as the latter was in him. He had often heard of Arthur through Joaquin; and, if the boy had known all Pierre's intentions concerning him, he might not have felt quite so much at his ease.

"I can't spare much time," said the robber, breaking the silence at last.

"Nor I either," returned Arthur; "so I will begin my business at once, and get through as soon as I can. I have heard the particulars of your fights with Frank Nelson, and I propose to put you in the way of making five times the amount of money you would have made if you had captured him when you met him in the mountains. I want to be revenged upon Frank and his crowd, for they have grossly insulted me."

"Of course they have," said Pierre. "I know all about it."

"I can't punish them by myself," continued Arthur, "for they are three to my one. I am not afraid of Johnny Harris, or Archie Winters; but there's that other Yankee, Frank Nelson. He is as strong as a lion, and if he once gets his blood up, he don't care for any thing. I am afraid of him."

"I don't wonder at it. I have had some experience with him, and, if he had a few more years on his shoulders, I should be afraid of him myself."

"I can't punish them unless I have help," repeated Arthur; "and, if you will lend me your assistance, you can make sixty thousand dollars by it. I heard those fellows say, yesterday, that they are going on a hunting expedition, next week. I will make friends with them again, and find out when they intend to start, and I propose that you capture them, and take them to some safe place in the mountains, and demand twenty thousand dollars apiece for them. You can demand more, if you choose, and get it, too; for Mr. Harris is rich, and so is Mr. Winters. You must have some men to assist you, however."

"I understand that," said Pierre. "I'll find the men."

"Will you do it?"

"Certainly, I will."

"Give me your hand, Pierre; I knew you would help me. But let me tell you one thing, and that is, when you capture them you must look out for yourself. They will have plenty of weapons, and, from what I have seen of them, I don't think they would hesitate to use them if they got a chance. There's one thing about this business I don't exactly admire. Of course, I shall start with their expedition—I want to have the satisfaction of seeing them captured—and my idea was, that, when you made the attack on them, you should give me a chance to escape; but Joaquin says, that won't do at all."

"Certainly not;" said Pierre, quickly. "I shall have five men with me, and if we should let you get away, the boys would be suspicious of you at once."

"That's just what Joaquin said; and since I have thought the matter over, I have come to the conclusion that he was right. I don't want them to know that I had a hand in this matter, for they might make me some trouble."

"Very likely they would. You must allow yourself to be captured with the others."

"Well, I sha'n't mind that, for, I believe, I can enjoy myself among the mountains for a month or two. But, Pierre, when you get them you must hold fast to them."

"I am not the man to let sixty thousand dollars slip through my fingers," said the Ranchero, with a laugh.

"And there are three other things I want you to remember," continued Arthur, earnestly. "The first is, you must not demand any ransom for me."

"Oh no; of course not."

"The second is, I shall expect to be treated at all times like a visitor. I am a gentleman, and a gentleman's son."

"I am well aware of that fact. I knew it the moment I put my eyes on you."

"The third thing I want you to bear in mind, is, that I shall not be captured without a struggle; and that every chance I get I shall try to escape. I am going to show those fellows that I have some spunk. I want you to act natural, and to prevent me from getting away from you; but you must not abuse me. You can treat the others as roughly as you please. Do you agree to all this?"

"I do, and there's my hand on it," said Pierre. "I fully understand your plans now, and know just what you want me to do; and, what's more, I'll do it. If you have got through with what you have to say, you had better be off. I have a good many enemies, and I am in danger as long as you are here. Watch those boys closely, and keep Joaquin posted. I can find out every thing I want to know from him."

"My plans are working nicely," chuckled Arthur, as he rode homeward. "I'll teach these backwoodsmen manners, before I am done with them."

"Eighty thousand dollars!" said Pierre, gazing after the retreating horseman. "That's a nice little sum to be divided among six of us."

This remark will show whether or not the robber intended to abide by the promises he had just made to Arthur Vane; and, while we are on this subject, it may not be amiss to say, that the scheme Arthur had proposed, was one on which the robber had been meditating for many days. During the time he had lived in the mountains, he had kept his brain busy, and had been allowed ample opportunity to decide upon his future operations. He had been astonished and enraged at his failure to secure the twelve thousand dollars, and to make Frank Nelson a prisoner, and he had resolved to make amends for his defeat by capturing Frank and all his companions, including Arthur Vane. Pierre had plenty of friends to assist him, but there was one question that troubled him, and presented an obstacle that he could see no way to overcome; and that was, how to capture all the boys at once. That must be done, or his plan would fail. He could get his hands upon Arthur Vane at any time; but the others were like birds on the wing—here to-day, and miles away to-morrow—and Pierre did not know where to find them. Now, however, the difficulty was removed. Frank and his friends were going on a hunting expedition, Arthur would ascertain when they were going to start, and what road they intended to take, and when the day arrived, the robber could call in his men, who were employed on the neighboring ranchos, and capture the boys without the least trouble. Pierre was very glad that Arthur had got angry at Frank.

Meanwhile Frank, Archie, and Johnny, all unconscious of the plans that were being formed against them, enjoyed themselves to the utmost, and wasted a good deal of time every day in laughing over the incidents that had transpired during their ride to Captain Porter's ranch. Archie, especially, had a great deal to say about it. He had an accomplishment, of which we have never before had occasion to speak: he was a first-class mimic; and he took no little pride in showing off his powers. He could imitate the brogue of an Irishman the broken English of a Dutchman, or the nasal twang of a Yankee, to perfection; and one day, while he was in the barn saddling his horse, he carried on a lengthy conversation with Bob Kelly (who was on the outside of the building), about some runaway cattle, and the old trapper thought all the while that he was talking to his chum, Dick Lewis. Now Archie had a new subject to practice upon. He laid himself out to personate Arthur Vane; and he not only successfully imitated that young gentleman's pompous style of talking, and his dignified manner of riding and walking, but even the tone of his voice. He criticised Frank and Johnny continually, and made them laugh, till their jaws ached, by recounting imaginary adventures on the burning sands of Patagonia, and among the icebergs and polar bears of India.

The day following the one on which Arthur Vane visited the robber in the mountains, found the three boys on the back porch of Mr. Winters's rancho, making preparations for their hunting expedition. Frank was cleaning his rifle, and Archie and Johnny were repairing an old pack-saddle, in which they intended to carry their provisions and extra ammunition. Archie was seated on the floor, with an awl in one hand, and a piece of stout twine in the other; and, while he was working at the pack-saddle, his tongue was moving rapidly.

"I am young in years, fellows," he was saying, "but I am aged in experience. If I had my rights, I should long ago have been gray-headed. I have seen thrilling times in my life, and have been the hero of adventures, that, were I to relate them to you, would make each particular hair of your heads stand on end, like the quills of a punched hedge-hog. I am—if you will kindly permit me to use a slang expression—an old hand at the business of hunting and trapping, and have accomplishments in which I can not be beaten. Among them, stands my ability to whip a grizzly bear in a fair fight, with no weapon but my knife. I have hunted wild gorillas in the streets of New York City; have"—

"Good morning, fellows!"

Archie brought the story of his adventures to a sudden close, and, looking over his shoulder, saw Arthur Vane standing at the end of the porch. The boys had never expected him to call upon them again, and Archie and Johnny were too surprised to speak; but Frank, who always kept his wits about him, returned Arthur's greeting, and invited him to occupy the chair he pushed toward him. He was not at all pleased to see the visitor, but he was too much of a gentleman to show it.

One would suppose, that the remembrance of what had happened, three days before, would have caused Arthur some embarrassment; but such was not the case. On the contrary, he was as dignified as ever, and seemed to be perfectly at his ease. Frank and his friends were considerate enough to refrain from making any allusions to the fright he had sustained, but Arthur brought the subject up himself.

"I received your note," said he, "and also the articles you were kind enough to send me; and I am here now to say, that I feel heartily ashamed of myself. From some cause or another, that I could not explain if I should try, I was extremely nervous that day; but I may, some time, have an opportunity to show you that I am not as much of a coward as I know you now believe me to be."

Arthur remained at the rancho all that day, sitting down at the same, table, and eating his dinner with the boys he was about to betray into the hands of the robbers; and, when he went home that night, he had asked, and received, permission to accompany them to the mountains. Their consent had been given reluctantly, and with very bad grace; but they could see no way to get around it. Arthur was a boy with whom they did not care to associate; but he had done them no injury, and they could not bring themselves to refuse his request.

"They will start early Monday morning," soliloquized Arthur, as he rode homeward, "and will take the road that leads to Captain Porter's. This is Friday. I shall send word by Joaquin to Pierre to-night, and he will have plenty of time to make all his arrangements."

Arthur spent the next day with the boys at Mr. Winters's rancho, and, when he rode over on Monday morning, he brought with him a supply of provisions, which were stowed away in the pack-saddle with the rest. Frank and his friends had been waiting for him, and now that they were all ready, they mounted their horses and rode off—Archie leading an extra horse, which carried the pack-saddle. As they galloped through the Rancheros' quarters, Dick appeared at the door of his cabin, and shouted after them words, which, taken in connection with the events that were about to transpire, seemed like prophecy.

"You'll be wishin' fur me an' Bob, to get you out of the hands of that ar' greaser, afore you're two days older," yelled Dick.

"You don't suppose that we four fellows will let one man capture us, do you?" shouted Archie, in reply. "If we do get into trouble, and you find it out, you'll come to our rescue, won't you?"

"Sartin. Now, don't be keerless, like you allers are."

The boys kept their horses in a rapid gallop until they reached the bridle-path in the mountains, and then Archie went ahead with the pack-horse, and the others followed in single file. They rode along singing and shouting, and little dreaming of the danger that was so near, until they arrived in sight of the spring, near which Frank had his last encounter with the robber. He soon found that he was to have another adventure there; for, as he and his companions rode toward the spring, they were startled by a shrill whistle, which echoed among the mountains, and was answered on all sides of them; and, before they had recovered from their surprise, Pierre Costello appeared in the path, as suddenly as though he had dropped from the clouds, and came toward them, holding a pistol in each hand.

"Halt!" shouted the robber.

The boys looked about them, as if seeking some avenue of escape, and then they saw that Pierre was not alone. Every thicket, toward which they turned their eyes, bristled with weapons, and a dozen revolvers were leveled straight at their heads. It was useless to think of flight.



CHAPTER XIII.

PIERRE AND HIS BAND.

"Halt, I say!" repeated Pierre, riding up beside Frank, and seizing his horse by the bridle. "Disarm them, men, and shoot down the first one that resists," he added, as the band closed up around the boys.

Frank, seeing, at a glance, that it was useless to think of escape, sat quietly in his saddle, and allowed Pierre to take possession of his rifle, pistols, and lasso.

Johnny and Archie also surrendered at discretion; but Arthur, believing that the time had come to retrieve the reputation he had lost so ingloriously a few days before, determined that he would not surrender without a fight. It was a part of his contract with the robber chief, that he should be allowed to resist as desperately as he pleased, and he took advantage of it. He gazed at the Rancheros for a moment with well-assumed astonishment, and then, appearing to comprehend the situation, he shouted:

"Stick together, fellows, and fight for your liberties! Don't give up, like a pack of cowards! Knock 'em down! Shoot 'em! Take your hand off that bridle, you villain!"

As Arthur spoke, he dashed his spurs into the flanks of his horse, which bounded forward so suddenly, that he jerked the bridle from the grasp of the Ranchero who was holding him.

"Hurrah! I'm free, boys!" he shouted, clubbing his gun, and swinging it around his head. "Follow me, and I'll show you how we used to clean out the Indians."

Arthur's triumph was of short duration. The Ranchero, from whom he had escaped, was at his side in an instant, and, again seizing his bridle with one hand, he leveled a pistol full at his prisoner's head with the other, while Pierre caught his gun from behind, and wrested it from his grasp. At the same moment, a lasso, thrown by the Ranchero who had taken charge of Archie, settled down over his shoulders, and was drawn tight.

Pierre and his band were obeying their instructions to the very letter, indeed, they were altogether too zealous in their efforts to appear "natural," and Arthur began to be suspicious that they were in sober earnest with him, as well as with the others. He looked up into Pierre's face, in the hope of receiving from him some friendly token—a sly wink or a nod, which would satisfy him that he was "all right," and in no danger of receiving bodily injury; but he saw nothing of the kind. The chieftain's face wore a terrible scowl, and he even lifted Arthur's gun above his head, as if he had half a mind to knock him out of his saddle.

"Quarter! quarter!" gasped Arthur, striving, with nervous fingers, to pull the lasso from his neck, and beginning to be thoroughly alarmed. "I surrender."

"Well, let that be your last attempt at escape," said Pierre, in a very savage tone of voice, "or you will find, to your cost, that we are not to be trifled with."

In the meantime, the other Rancheros, while holding fast to their prisoners, had relieved them of their weapons; and, as soon as Pierre had seen Arthur conquered, he seized the bridle of the pack-horse, while each of the other members of the band took charge of one of the boys, and the cavalcade started down the ravine at a rapid gallop.

All this happened in much less time than we have taken to describe it. Before the young hunters had fairly recovered from the astonishment caused by the sudden appearance of Pierre and his band, they had been disarmed, and were being led captive into the mountains.

Frank and his two friends were more bewildered than alarmed. The whole thing was so unexpected, and had been accomplished so quickly and quietly! Remembering the particulars of Frank's previous encounter with Pierre Costello, they did not stand in fear of bodily harm. Although they had not the slightest suspicion that their capture was the result of treachery on the part of Arthur Vane, they well understood the motives of the robbers, and knew, as well as if Pierre had explained the matter to them, that they were to be used as a means to extort money from their relatives, and that they had nothing to fear, so long as they submitted quietly to their enemies. But this was something that one of the three boys, at least, had no intention of doing. Frank's brain was already busy with plans for escape. He had twice beaten Pierre at his own game, and, if the robber did not keep his wits about him, he would do it again. As for Arthur, although his plans were, thus far, as successful as he could have desired, he was very much disappointed. The three boys, who had dared to hold him up to the people of the settlement in his true character, were prisoners, and he had Pierre's assurance that they would remain such until the demands he intended to make upon their relatives should be complied with. But, after all, Arthur did not experience the satisfaction he had hoped he would, for the robbers had treated him very roughly. The chief had raised his own gun over his head; another had choked him with his lasso, and a third had pointed a loaded pistol at him. That was a nice way to treat a visitor! Arthur began to wish that he had never had any thing to do with Pierre and his band.

The chief, who rode in advance with the pack-horse, led the way at a break-neck pace, and the boys, being one behind the other, each in company with the Ranchero who had him in charge, were allowed no opportunity to converse with one another, even had they desired it. Frank, for want of something better to do, began to make an examination of the members of the band. Like their leader, they were full-blooded Mexicans, with enormous mustaches, and long, tangled hair, which looked as though it had never seen a comb. They were dressed in gay-colored clothes—blue jackets, buckskin pants, very wide at the knee, and covered with buttons, ribbons, and gold lace. They wore long sashes around their waists, which were thrust full of bowie-knives and revolvers. They carried short, heavy rifles, slung over their shoulders by leather bands, and behind their saddles were their ponchos, which did duty both as overcoats and beds. Taken altogether, they were a hard-looking set, and seemed capable of any atrocity. The man who had charge of Frank was particularly noticeable in this respect, and our hero thought that all he needed were the leggins, and high-pointed hat, to make him a first-class brigand. This man kept a sharp eye upon his prisoner, and scowled at him, as if he regarded him as his most implacable foe.

"You needn't look so mad," said Frank, at length. "I don't remember that I ever did you any harm, and I certainly am not foolish enough to try to escape, as long as you keep hold of my bridle."

"You had better not," said the Ranchero, smiling grimly, and shaking his head in a very threatening manner.

"I don't know that you can frighten me," returned Frank, coolly. "I wish I was a man for about five minutes."

"What would you do?" asked the Ranchero, who seemed to be pleased, as well as astonished, at the boy's courage and independence.

"I'd make your head and your heels change places in a great hurry. In other words, I'd knock you out of your saddle. Then I'd say: 'Good-by, Mr.—Mr.'—what's your name?"

"Mercedes—Antoine Mercedes."

"Well, Mr. Mercedes, I'll never forget that benevolent-looking face of yours. As I was saying, I would bid you good-by, and leave. I'd pass those fellows," he added, jerking his thumb over his shoulder toward the robbers in the rear, "before they could say 'General Jackson' with their mouth's open. You haven't got a horse, in this party, that can catch Roderick."

The Ranchero smiled again, and tapped the butt of one of his revolvers with his finger.

"Oh, you wouldn't have a chance to fire a pistol at me," said Frank, quickly. "By the time you could get on your feet again, after I had knocked you down, I would be a mile from here. Did Pierre ever tell you how nicely I fooled him?" he continued, noticing that the chief was turned half around in his saddle, listening to what he had to say. "Well I am not surprised that he never mentioned it, for he ought to feel ashamed of himself."

"Ay; but I have got you fast this time," said Pierre, with a laugh. "Let us see how nicely you will fool me now. One at a time here, men," he added, in a louder tone, "and keep close watch of those prisoners."

As Pierre spoke, the cavalcade emerged from the woods, and Frank found himself on the brink of a rocky chasm, which stretched away to the right as far as his eye could reach, and seemed to extend down into the very bowels of the earth. It was so deep that his head grew dizzy, as he looked into it. On his left, and directly in front of him, was a precipitous mountain, the top of which hung threateningly over the gorge below. It seemed to Frank that they could go no farther in this direction, until Pierre urged his horse upon a narrow ledge that ran around the base of the cliff. Antoine followed after the pack-horse, and Frank came next. Roderick pricked up his ears, looked over into the gorge, and snorted loudly. He moved very slowly and carefully, and well he might: for a single misstep on his part would have sent both him and his rider to destruction. The path was so narrow that, although Roderick walked on the extreme outer edge, Frank's feet now and then brushed against the rock on the opposite side. Our hero felt his sombrero rise on his head, whenever he looked into the chasm, or allowed himself to reflect how slight an accident might launch him into eternity. But there was no backing out. Once on that ledge, a person must go forward; for there was no room to turn around.

After Frank came another of the band, and Johnny followed at his heels. Archie and his keeper came next, and Arthur and his keeper brought up the rear. They all rode fearlessly upon the ledge, until it came Arthur's turn, and then was heard a cry of remonstrance. The young gentleman, who had been brave enough to fill the perilous office of scout among the Indians of the plains, did not possess the courage necessary to carry him through this ordeal. He turned as pale as death, and stopped his horse.

"Go on," sternly commanded his keeper.

"Oh, it's dangerous," returned Arthur, in pitiful tones. "What if my horse should slip off? That gully must be a thousand feet deep!"

"More than that," said Archie, who, although very far from being pleased at his own situation, could not resist the inclination to torment Arthur. "It reaches clear through to India, where you used to hunt polar bears."

"That's so," said Johnny; "for just now, as I looked over into the gorge, I saw a lot of half naked Hindoos tumbling about among the icebergs."

"And I heard them yelling," chimed in Frank; "and saw one of those big white bears after them."

"Go on!" repeated the Ranchero, impatiently.

"O, now, see here!" exclaimed Arthur, in a trembling voice, trying to turn his horse's head away from the pass, "I believe, I'll"—

He was about to say, that he believed he would not go any further, but that he would return home and leave Pierre and his band to take care of his three enemies; but his keeper did not give him time to finish the sentence. Seeing that Arthur had no intention of following the rest of the party, the robber took his lasso from the pommel of his saddle, and with it struck his prisoner's horse a blow that caused the fiery animal to give one tremendous spring, which brought him to the very brink of the precipice. In his efforts to stop himself, a portion of the earth was detached by his hoofs and fell with a loud noise into the abyss, bounding down its rocky sides, and crashing through bushes and branches of trees in its rapid descent to the bottom. The horse, frightened by the sound, and smarting under the blow of the lasso, reared so straight upon his hind legs that he seemed in imminent danger of toppling over into the chasm; and then, for the first time in his life, Arthur found himself in real peril. He screamed loudly, clung to the horn of his saddle with a death grip, and closed his eyes, expecting every instant to find himself whirling through the air toward the bottom of the gorge. But help was near: the strong hand of his keeper grasped the bridle, and brought the horse back upon firm ground.

"Now, then, go on!" commanded the Ranchero, without giving his prisoner time to recover from his fright.

Arthur was powerless to obey, for so great was his terror that he could not move a muscle; but his horse, being left to himself, stepped boldly upon the ledge, and followed after the rest of the party, who had, by this time, disappeared around the base of the mountain.



CHAPTER XIV.

A DINNER IN THE MOUNTAINS.

Pass Christian—for that was the name of the gorge—was two miles long. About half that distance from the entrance, was a natural recess in the mountains, comprising perhaps half an acre, which was covered with grass and stunted oaks, and watered by a spring that gushed out from under a huge bowlder, which had fallen into the glade from the mountains above. Here the robber chief had decided to remain long enough to send a message to Mr. Winters. The horses had been unsaddled, and were cropping the grass, and the Rancheros were stretched out under the shade of the trees—all except two of their number, one of whom, having lighted a fire, was engaged in cooking the dinner, and the other was standing near the entrance to the glade, leaning on his rifle, and keeping a close watch over the prisoners. Frank and his two friends were reposing on their blankets near the spring, and when Arthur rode up, they greeted him with a broad grin.

"Well, Colonel," said Frank, "you come near going back to India by a short route, didn't you?"

"Did you ever travel on horseback in such frightful places as this, during your wanderings in Europe?" asked Johnny.

Arthur had, by this time, somewhat recovered from his fright, though his face was still very pale, and he drew a long breath every now and then, when he thought of the dangers he had passed through.

"No," he replied, to Johnny's question. "I never traveled much among the mountains. It always makes my head dizzy, to look down from a height."

"How, then, did you stand it," said Archie, with a sly wink at his companions, "when you were perched upon the 'very top of the middle mast' of your ship, looking out for whales?"

"Eh?" exclaimed Arthur. "Why—I—you know"—

Arthur was cornered. He did not know how to answer this question, so he kneeled down by the spring, and took a drink, in order to gain time to reflect. "I was obliged to stand it," said he, at length, looking up at his companions. "I couldn't help myself. I say, boys," he added, desiring to turn the conversation into another channel, "you've got us into a nice scrape by your cowardice. If you had followed me, those fellows would have been the prisoners now."

At this moment the robber chief approached the group, holding in his hand a sheet of soiled paper and a lead pencil. "Take these," said he, handing the articles to Frank, "and write to your uncle, telling him how matters stand. Say to him that you and your friends are prisoners, that I am going to take you where no one will ever think of looking for you, and that when I am paid eighty thousand dollars in gold, I will set you at liberty, and not before. Tell him, further, that I shall send this note to him by one of my men; and that if he does not return in safety by sunrise to-morrow morning, I will make scare-crows of you."

Frank picked up his saddle-bags, which he used as a desk, and, after borrowing the robber's bowie-knife to sharpen his pencil, he began the letter, and wrote down what Pierre had dictated, using as nearly as possible the chief's own words.

"That's all right," said the latter, when his prisoner had read the letter aloud.

"Now," said Frank, "may I not add a postscript, telling Uncle James that we are well and hearty, and that we have been kindly treated, and so on."

"Certainly; only be careful that you do not advise him to capture my messenger."

Frank again picked up his pencil, and wrote as follows:

"The above was written by Pierre's command, and I have his permission to say a word for ourselves. You need not pay out any money for Archie and me; and I know that if I was allowed an opportunity to talk to Johnny, he would send the same message to his father. We are now in Pass Christian—a difficult place to escape from, but we intend to make the attempt this very night. Detain Pierre's messenger, by all means; then send Dick and Bob with a party of men up here by daylight, and they can capture every one of these villains."

That was what Frank added to the letter, but, when Pierre ordered him to read it, he made up a postscript as he went along; for he knew that if the chief were made acquainted with the real contents of the note, he would not send it. The Ranchero did not know one letter from another, and he was obliged to rely entirely upon Frank, who read:

"We're all hunky-dory thus far. Pierre don't seem to be so bad a fellow, after all; in fact, he's a brick. He treats us like gentlemen; but, of course, we'd rather be at home, so please send on the money for Archie and me, and see that Mr. Harris and Mr. Vane do the same for Johnny and Arthur."

"You're sure, now," said Pierre, as Frank handed him the letter, after addressing it to Mr. Winters, "that you haven't told your uncle where we are, or advised him to try to rescue you?"

"There's the note," replied the prisoner, "and if you think I have been trying to deceive you, read it yourself."

"I guess it's all right," said the chief. "At any rate, I'll run the risk. I have treated you like gentlemen, and if you want me to continue to do so, you must behave yourselves, and not try to play any tricks upon me. Now, mind what I say. If any of you hear the others talking of escape, and don't tell me of it, I'll pitch every one of you into that gully."

Having given utterance to this threat, and emphasized it by scowling savagely at his prisoners, Pierre turned on his heel and walked away.

By this time, dinner was ready, and the boys were invited to sit down and help themselves. The principal dish was dried meat, but there were luxuries in the shape of sandwiches, cakes, crackers, and tea and coffee, which the cook had found in the pack-saddle, and which he did not hesitate to appropriate. The table was the ground under one of the trees, and the grass did duty both as table-cloth and dishes.

"Now, boys," said the chief, "here's a dinner fit for a king. Pitch in, and don't stand upon ceremony."

"I don't think you will find us at all bashful," said Archie, dryly, "seeing that the most of this grub belongs to us."

As the robbers and their prisoners were hungry after their long ride, they fell to work in earnest. Archie sat on his knees in the midst of the group, and, while his teeth were busy upon a sandwich, his eyes wandered from one to another of the Rancheros, and finally rested upon Mr. Mercedes, whose actions instantly riveted his attention. It had evidently been a long time since the robbers had sat down to a respectable dinner, and they all seemed determined to make the most of it—especially Antoine, who devoted his attention entirely to the eatables that had been found in the pack-saddle. He lay stretched out at full length on the ground, one hand being occupied in supporting his head, and the other in transferring the sandwiches from the table to his capacious mouth. Two of the sandwiches would have made a good meal for an ordinary man, unless he was very hungry; but they did not go far toward satisfying the appetite of Mr. Mercedes, for, during the short time that Archie sat looking at him, he put no less than half a dozen out of sight, and seemed to have room for plenty more. Archie began to be alarmed. By the time he could finish one sandwich, Antoine would have swallowed every one on the table, and there would be nothing left but the dried meat.

"Will the small gentleman from Maine be kind enough to pass the plum-pudding—I mean the one that's got the most raisins in it?" said Johnny, who was inclined to be facetious.

"See here, fellows!" exclaimed Archie, and the earnest expression of his countenance arrested the laughing at once. "This is no time for joking. The rule of this boarding-house seems to be, Look out for number one. I intend to do it; and, if you want to get any thing to eat, you had better follow my example."

So saying, he caught up three or four sandwiches, and half a dozen cakes, and started toward the spring, where he sat down to finish his dinner. The other boys comprehended this piece of strategy, and, in less time than it takes to tell it, the table was cleared of every thing except the dried meat. Mr. Mercedes uttered an angry growl, and gazed after Johnny, who had snatched the last sandwich almost out of his hand, and then whipped out his knife, and turned his attention to the meat.

When the robbers had finished their dinner, Pierre held a whispered consultation with one of his men, who, after placing Frank's letter carefully away in the crown of his sombrero, mounted his horse, and rode down the pass. The others, with the exception of a solitary sentinel, sought their blankets, and the boys were left to themselves.

"Now," said Johnny, in a whisper, addressing himself to Frank, "tell us what you wrote in that postscript. You surely did not ask your uncle to send any money for you and Archie?"

"Of course not!" replied Frank. "I, for one, am not worth twenty thousand dollars; and I would rather stay here until I am gray-headed, and live on nothing but dried meat all the while, than ask Uncle James to give twenty cents for me."

"That's the talk," said Johnny, approvingly, while Archie raised himself on his elbow, and patted his cousin on the back. Frank then repeated what he had written in the postscript, as nearly as he could recollect it, and it was heartily indorsed by all the boys, even including Arthur Vane, who said:

"I am glad to see that you are recovering your courage, Frank. If you had all showed a little pluck, when Pierre attacked us this morning, we should not have been in this predicament."

"We'll not argue that point now," said Archie. "Let's talk about our plans for escape. By the way, what sort of fellows do you suppose Pierre takes us for, if he imagines that he can frighten us into carrying tales about one another?"

"I'd like to know, too," said Arthur, sitting up on his blanket, and looking very indignant. "I wonder if he is foolish enough to believe that one of us would tell him, if he heard the others talking of escape! If I thought there was one in this party mean enough to do that, I would never speak to him again."

"Now, don't you be alarmed," said Johnny. "We've been through too much to go back on each other. But how shall we get away? that's the question."

"Let us rush up and knock them down, and pitch them over into the gully," said Arthur. "Follow me; I'll get you out of this scrape."

"We couldn't gain any thing by a fight," said Frank. "Four boys are no match for five grown men."

"I'd give Sleepy Sam if I could only see Dick and Bob poke their noses over some of these rocks around here," said Archie. "They will be after us, as soon as they find out that we are captured; and when they get their eyes on these 'Greasers,' as they call them, there'll be fun."