“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.