rank 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.