When Frank reached home, he shed a great many tears over Marmion’s untimely death; but, as it happened, it was grief wasted.  One morning, about a week after his adventure with the highwayman, while Frank and Archie were out for their morning’s ride, a sorry-looking object crawled into the court, and thence into the office, where Mr. Winters was busy at his desk.  “Mad dog!” shouted the gentleman, when he discovered the intruder; and, springing to his feet, he lifted his chair over his head, and was in the very act of extinguishing the last spark of life left in the poor brute, when the sight of a collar he wore around his neck arrested his hand.  It was no wonder that Uncle James had not recognized the animal, for he looked very unlike the lively, well-conditioned dog which Frank was wont to regard as the apple of his eye.  But, nevertheless, it was Marmion, or, rather, all that was left of him.  He had been severely wounded, and was nearly starved; but he received the best of care, and it was not long before he was as savage and full of fight as ever.  Although he had failed to capture the robber, he had rendered his master a most important service, and no one ever heard him find fault with Marmion after that.

Frank’s reputation was by this time firmly established, and he was the lion of the settlement.  Dick Lewis was prouder than ever of him.  Of course, he called him a “keerless feller,” and read him several long lectures, illustrating them by incidents drawn from his own experience.  He related the story of Frank’s adventures with the robber every time he could induce any one to listen to it, and ever afterward called him “the boy that fit that ar’ Greaser.”  Old Bob Kelly beamed benevolently upon him every time they met, and more than once told his companion that the “youngster would make an amazin’ trapper;” and that, in Dick’s estimation, was a compliment worth all the rest.

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.