Old Davy, the terror of the country, the destroyer of dogs, and winner of goodness knows how many desperate battles—Old Davy the invincible—had met his match at last in Frank Nelson, a boy of sixteen. The young hunter had long enjoyed an enviable reputation, dating as far back as his desperate fight with the moose, which had taken place during the previous winter, while he and Archie were sojourning at Uncle Joe’s cabin. Since that time he had been the hero of as many scrapes as a boy of his age could well get into. He had been lost on the prairie; stampeded with a herd of buffaloes; passed a night in the camp of a band of blood-thirsty outlaws, who stole his horse and threatened to tie him to a tree and leave him to the mercy of the wolves; had three desperate encounters with a highwayman, and been captured at last and held as a prisoner by him; and in all these trying situations he had shown that he possessed a wonderful degree of courage, and had always conducted himself in a way to draw forth the highest praise from his friends the trappers. But all his former exploits were as nothing compared with the feat he had just accomplished. He had a reputation now that any farmer in that country would have been proud to possess. He would be pointed out as the one who had killed a monster which had held his own against all the men and dogs that could be brought against him; and when he heard old bear-hunters recounting their adventures, and boasting of their achievements, he could hold his head as high as any of them.

That was what Frank thought half an hour after the fight was over; but, when he stood there looking at his prize and at his companions—at Archie, who sat on the ground beside the bear, with his aching head resting on his hands, and at Dick, one or both of whom had been saved by his lucky shot, he never reflected on the glory he had won. He could not help thinking of what the consequences would have been if he, in his excitement, had missed the bear, or failed to disable him.

Never before had the boys engaged in so exciting a battle. It was far ahead of any of their former hunts. It had been ended so fortunately, too! Archie had a lame shoulder and a bruised nose, and for a few minutes had been utterly unconscious of what was going on around him; but he did not feel half so badly about it as Dick did over the trick his horse had played upon him.

“I’ll fix him for that,” said the boy, with a threatening shake of his head. “I’ll put him in one of father’s teams, and make him work for his living. I don’t owe him any thanks for coming out of this fight with a whole skin. After he has made a few trips between our rancho and San Diego, hauling heavy loads of provisions, he’ll wish he had behaved himself.”

“I’ll tell you what I am going to do with mine,” said Archie, with a glance of contempt at the nag which had been the cause of his misfortune: “I’ll leave him out of doors to-night, and let the horse-thieves steal him.”

“I don’t see how you can be revenged on the horse by doing that,” said Frank. “I don’t suppose it makes much difference to him who he has for a master.”

“Who said I wanted to be revenged on the horse?” asked Archie. “I don’t; but I’ll take a terrible revenge on the robbers. Perhaps the fellow who gets this horse will try to jump him over a log, and the horse will fall down with him, as he did with me, and smash the robber’s nose, and knock his shoulder out of joint. That’s the way I’ll get even with him.”

“Three cheers for the champion rifle-shot and bear-killer!” yelled Johnny, for the twentieth time.

Again and again the ravine echoed with lusty shouts—even Archie lifted his pale face and joined in with a feeble voice—and having thus given vent to their enthusiasm, the boys pulled off their jackets and began the work of removing the grizzly’s skin.

“That will be a valuable addition to our museum at home, won’t it?” asked Archie, stretching himself out in the shade of a tree close by. “When it is stuffed and mounted, it will be worth all our other specimens put together. I’d give something to know what Dick Lewis will have to say about it. Hallo!”

The boys looked up to see what had caused this exclamation, and discovered the trapper standing at a little distance from them, closely watching their operations. They had often seen him astonished, but never before had they seen such a look of utter amazement as that which now overspread his face. He stood with his body bent forward, his neck stretched out, and his eyes almost starting from their sockets. With one hand he held his horse, and in the other his rifle, with the butt of which he was thumping the ground energetically, as if giving emphasis to some thoughts that were passing through his mind. His whole attitude and appearance indicated that he was little prepared for the scene he was witnessing.

“Hallo, Dick!” exclaimed Johnny; “we’re glad to see you. You and old Bob can just hang up your fiddles now. There’s a hunter in the settlement who is a long way ahead of both of you.”

The trapper tied his horse to a limb of the nearest tree, and walked toward the boys. “You amazin’ keerless feller!” said he, addressing himself to Frank, “I b’lieve it’s my bounden duty to take this yere ramrod out of my gun an’ give you the best kind of a wallopin’.”

“You had better be careful how you talk to him,” said Dick Thomas. “He’s the man who killed Old Davy.”

“Don’t I know all about it?” exclaimed the trapper. “Didn’t I say to myself this mornin’, when you fellers left the rancho, that somethin’ was goin’ to happen? Didn’t I saddle up my hoss an’ foller you, to keep an eye on you, an’ haint you gone an’ fit an’ killed that ar’ grizzly bar afore I could find you, to lend you a helpin’ hand? You have; an’ it beats any thing I ever heern tell on. The next thing I know you will be foolin’ around among them hoss-thieves.”

This was the way Dick always lectured Frank and Archie whenever they did any thing that astonished him, and a stranger, to have heard him speak, would have supposed that somebody had ordered him to watch the cousins closely, and keep them out of trouble; and that he had found the task an exceedingly difficult one to perform. The stranger would have believed, too, that he was very angry; but the boys knew that the fierce scowl he had assumed was intended to conceal a very different feeling—that he was highly elated over their victory, and that, before a week had passed, he would tell it to every body in the settlement. They knew, also, that the story would lose nothing in passing through his hands; for, although Dick always confined himself strictly to the truth when relating his own adventures, he did not hesitate to exaggerate a little when recounting the exploits of his “youngsters.”

“I wouldn’t be in Uncle Jeems’s boots fur nothin’,” said the trapper, filling his pipe and looking severely at Frank. “He promised your folks, afore we left Lawrence, that he would keep you out of all danger, an’ bring you safe back to your hum; but how he’s a goin’ to do it I can’t tell. I wouldn’t make no sich bargain as that ar’ with no man, ’cause I couldn’t live up to it. What’s the matter with you, little un?”

“I’ve got a broken head, and a lame shoulder, and a cracked nose, and somehow I don’t feel all right,” replied Archie.

“Don’t! Wal, tell us all about it.”

The trapper settled back on his elbow to listen, and Dick Thomas, who was a smooth-tongued fellow, related the story of their adventures from beginning to end. As he proceeded, the scowl gradually faded from the backwoodsman’s face; and when he told how Frank had stood there at the log, and risked his life to secure the retreat of the others, Dick slapped the young hero on the back so heartily that he felt the effects of the blow for a quarter of an hour afterward. When the story was finished, he unsheathed his long bowie and assisted the boys in removing the grizzly’s skin; and as soon as this had been done, he placed Archie on his horse, and led the way toward home.

Their morning’s work had sharpened the boys’ appetites, and the excellent dinner which the housekeeper served up for them rapidly disappeared before their attacks. Even Archie disposed of his full share of the eatables, and after a hearty meal, pushed back his chair, declaring that he was all right, and ready for any thing the others had to propose, even if it was a fight with another Old Davy.

When the grizzly’s skin had been stretched upon a frame to dry, the boys lounged about the house for an hour or two, talking over the incidents of the morning; and then Johnny and Dick bade the cousins good-by, and started for home. Archie was lonesome and restless after they had gone. While Frank sat in his easychair, deeply interested in some favorite author, Archie lay stretched out on the bed, tossing his heels in the air, and scarcely knowing what to do with himself. His lost horse was still uppermost in his mind, and he wanted to talk about him, and about nothing else. There was Frank, as serene and undisturbed as usual, poring over the pages of some dry book, when he knew that the steed he valued so highly was within five miles of him! Archie did not see how any body could read under such circumstances, and he told his cousin so. He did not want to stay in the house either; and, what was more, he wouldn’t. He wanted to go somewhere, and do something.

“Well,” said Frank, laying down his book, “let’s hear what you have to propose. I am quite at your service.”

“Suppose we beard the lion in his den,” said Archie.

“All right. Show me the lion.”

“O, I am not joking. Let’s visit Don Carlos. Mark my words now, Frank: that old rascal knows more about the horse-thieves, than any body else in the country. We are on pretty good terms with him, and perhaps he will invite us to stay all night. If he does, we may be able to learn something about the bridge of clouds, and the other strange things old Bob saw there. Will you go?”

“Of course. But I’ll tell you what it is: You are going to be disappointed. We must not let Don Carlos know that we suspect any thing, for if we do, we may get ourselves into trouble.”

“I guess we are smart enough to look out for that. We will listen to his stories, and hear him rail at the robbers, and lament the loss of his fine horses, and all that, and act as though we believed every word of it. We mustn’t let Dick know where we are going,” added Archie. “He would be sure to make a fuss about it, for he has somehow got it into his head that he is our guardian in uncle’s absence.”

One would think that the cousins had already seen enough of excitement and perilous adventure, to satisfy any two boys in the world; and that, after their recent narrow escape from the clutches of Old Davy, they would think twice before undertaking so dangerous an enterprise as this, which Archie had called “bearding the lion in his den.” The way they went about their preparations, however, showed that they were in earnest, and that they were fully determined to learn more about the mysterious rancho, that is, if there was any thing more to be learned. Frank did not think there was. Of course the friendly old Spaniard would insist that they should accept his hospitality for the night, as he always did when they visited him. They had passed two or three nights under his roof, without seeing or hearing any thing unusual, and they would do it again. As for Don Carlos’ complicity with the horse-thieves, that was all in Archie’s eye. It was only another of the thousand-and-one foolish notions he was continually getting into his head, and when morning came he would be obliged to acknowledge the fact. Archie, on the other hand, had made up his mind to see some queer sights during the night, if they remained at Don Carlos’ rancho. He knew that he would have to fight somebody, and he prepared for it by putting a small revolver into his pocket, as did Frank, also. He was satisfied, too, that Bob had seen his horse go into the Spaniard’s rancho; and, if he was still there, Archie would have him out, or he would raise a fuss about the old fellow’s ears that would make him think he had stirred up a hornet’s nest.

“Just think of it!” exclaimed Archie, indignantly. “Our horses are being used every night by those robbers! O, you may smile and shake your head as much as you please, but I know it is so!” Frank thought if his cousin’s convictions on this point were as strong as the blow he struck the table to emphasize his words, they must have been very powerful indeed. “Now, I can tell you in a few words just how this matter stands,” continued Archie, “and one of these days you will see that I am right. The robbers make their head-quarters at that rancho, and ride Roderick and King James on their plundering expeditions. They know that the animals are swift, and that if they are discovered they can run away from their pursuers very easily. But my horse sha’n’t engage in any such business. He is a good honest horse, and I am not going to have him taught any bad habits.”

In a few minutes the boys were in their saddles, and galloping through the grove toward the creek. They carried their rifles slung over their shoulders by broad straps, their navy revolvers in their holsters, and their small pistols in their pockets. They rode the same horses that had carried them through the fight with the grizzly, Archie remarking that although his nag was not much of a jumper, he was a good one to go, and he might have occasion to use a fast horse before morning. They succeeded in leaving the rancho without the trapper’s knowledge; and in half an hour drew rein on the bank of the creek a short distance from Don Carlos’ rancho.

The building was like a good many others in that country—there was nothing remarkable about it, either in its appearance or history. It had stood a siege, and there were plenty of bullet-marks about it; and the same was true of the rancho in which Frank and Archie lived. It was built in the form of a hollow-square; the rough stone walls were five feet thick; and all the openings, except the port-holes, were protected by heavy plank doors and shutters, through which a rifle-ball could not penetrate. A tall flag-staff arose from the open court in the center, and from it floated the Stars and Stripes. Don Carlos was evidently patriotic.

The boys gazed long and earnestly at the building, and Archie was a good deal disappointed because he did not see some signs of the curious things the old trapper had witnessed there. They saw something else, however, at least Frank did, and he called Archie’s attention to it, by inquiring:

“Do you see the second port-hole from the right-hand side of the building?”

“I do,” replied his cousin; “and I see something sticking out of it. It looks to me like a spy-glass.”

“That’s just what it is. There is somebody in there watching us. And wasn’t that flag flying at the mast-head when we first saw it?”

“Of course it was,” answered Archie, beginning to get excited, “and now it is at half-mast. Now it is being hauled down altogether,” he added, as the bunting disappeared behind the walls of the rancho. “What can it mean? It must be a signal of some kind; and I—I—believe I won’t go any farther. I’ll return home and report the matter.”

“What good will that do?” asked Frank.

“Why, when uncle comes back, he can raise a crowd of men, and storm the old villain.”

“I don’t think he would do it. He would want the very strongest evidence before he would consent to assault a peaceable settler in his own dwelling, and that is something we haven’t got yet. Of course we can say that we saw somebody watching us through a spy-glass, and that the flag was hauled down when we came in sight; but that doesn’t prove any thing. If we should go home with that story, every body would laugh at us.”

“It is proof enough for me,” said Archie, “and I don’t care about trusting myself inside that rancho. I believe I’ll go back.”

“And I will go on,” said his cousin, riding down the bank toward the ford. “If Don Carlos asks me to stay all night, I’ll do it: and I shall feel as safe under his roof as I would at home.”

Archie pulled off his sombrero, and scratched his head in deep perplexity. He did not want to go home without Frank, and neither did he want to go with him into the rancho. The hauling down of the flag had made him timid. If it was not a signal, why was it pulled down at that time of day—two hours before sunset? If he had never been satisfied before that there was something wrong with Don Carlos, he was now. Beyond a doubt he was connected with the robbers—he was their leader, perhaps—and when he and Frank went into the rancho, they would find themselves surrounded by a crowd of villainous Mexicans, broken-down miners, and other desperate characters, who would never allow them to go out again. Worse than all, they could not hope for assistance, for they had left the rancho without telling any one where they were going; and when their absence was discovered, their friends would not know where to look for them.

“Frank,” exclaimed Archie, “are you really going in there?”

“I am, if I can get in,” replied his cousin, who was by this time half way across the ford. “Come on. I want to satisfy you that you have been wrongfully accusing an honest man.”

“And I’ll show you that I haven’t,” said Archie, galloping down the bank of the creek, and into the water. “If you are bound to go on, of course I shall stick to you.”

While the boys were riding toward the rancho they kept their eyes fastened on the port-hole, and saw that the person with the spy-glass closely followed all their movements. They discovered nothing else that looked suspicious, however, and when they dashed through the gate-way and drew up in the court, the reception they met with, from the proprietor of the rancho, went a long way toward convincing Archie that he had made a great mistake.

Don Carlos was a small, slim man, with a very sallow face, a long, hooked nose, and an immense gray mustache, which covered all the lower part of his face. He called himself a Spaniard: but he looked more like a German Jew, and talked exactly like one. He was as polite as a Frenchman; and when the boys rode up to the porch, he pulled off his sombrero, and stood bowing and scraping to them until they dismounted from their horses.

“Ach! here ish my goot leetle poys!” he exclaimed, in his broken English. “I peen so glad to see you. You shall shtay mit me now all night, of course, aint it? Peppo!” he added, in a louder tone, addressing a young Mexican who stood at a little distance, looking on—“you von grand rascal! dake dis horses to dem shtables. I do so hope dem horse-dieves won’t shteal ’em pefore mornings. Valk right in de house, leetle poys.”

“The more I see of this old fellow, the more I am convinced that he is a Dutchman,” thought Archie, as he followed Frank and the Don into the rancho. “I’ve met a good many Spaniards since I have been in California, but I never heard one talk like that.”

Their host conducted them through a long wide hall, the walls of which were ornamented with old-fashioned pictures and implements of the chase, and ushered them into an elegantly-furnished room, where he left them to take care of themselves; telling them that his herdsmen were out collecting a drove of cattle to be sent to San Diego, and that it was necessary that he should superintend their operations. If the boys wanted to read, there were plenty of books on the center-table; and if they did not feel like sitting still, they might walk about the rancho, and see if they could find any thing to amuse them. Supper would be ready at sunset; he would then be back, and would pass the evening with them.

“What do you think now, Archie?” asked Frank, when the Don had gone out. “Is this the sort of a reception a robber would be likely to extend to visitors? Do you suppose that if there was any thing wrong here, he would have allowed us the freedom of the house so readily?”

“He does that merely to blind us,” replied his cousin. “He is more polite and attentive than he used to be, and that makes me suspicious. If we don’t wish ourselves a thousand miles from here before morning, I will make you a present of my horse when I get him.”

Frank recalled these words a few hours afterward, and told himself that Archie had more sense than he had ever given him credit for.