“Hold on, you little Yankee,” said he.  “I’ll attend to you in a minute.  Johnny Harris, what was that name you applied to me?”

“It was a new one we have given you,” answered Johnny.  “We have called you after the meanest man that ever lived—­Benedict Arnold.  Do you know him?  Did you ever meet him while you were hunting lions and tigers in Europe?”

Frank and his cousin laughed loudly, which so enraged Arthur that he caught up a stick, that happened to be lying near him, and struck Johnny a severe blow with it.

“O, you coward!” shouted Archie, struggling frantically to free his arms.  “What do you mean by hitting a man when he is down, and can’t move hand or foot?”

The traitor turned fiercely upon Archie, and was about to use the stick upon him, when the gruff voice of the sentinel arrested his hand.  The Ranchero pointed toward the fire, and Arthur, understanding the motion, threw down the stick, and walked away, shaking his head, and muttering to himself.

“He had better keep close to his friends to-morrow,” said Johnny, his face all wrinkled up with pain.

The other boys thought so too.  Each one of them had rather that Arthur had struck him instead of Johnny; for the latter, although high-spirited, and inclined to be belligerent under provocation, was a good-natured, accommodating fellow, who gained hosts of friends wherever he went, and who never hesitated to make any sacrifice for the benefit of others.  Frank had never before witnessed such an exhibition of cowardly vindictiveness, and he was almost sorry that he had protected Arthur.

The traitor, well satisfied with what he had done, and only regretting that he had been interrupted before his revenge was complete, spread his blanket beside the chief; and, after that, nothing happened for a long time to disturb the silence of the camp.  The Rancheros were soon in a sound sleep, even including Antoine Mercedes, the sentinel, who sat with his back against a tree, his head hung down upon his breast and his right hand, which rested on the ground beside him, grasping a revolver.  He had been placed there by his chief to watch the prisoners; but, believing that there was little danger of their escape, and being unwilling to be deprived of his usual rest, he had gone to sleep as soon as the others.  The boys, however, were wide awake.  The exciting events of the day, and the pain occasioned by their bonds, effectually banished sleep from their eyes, and they passed the long hours in pondering upon what Arthur had done, and trying in vain to find a comfortable position on their blankets.  Johnny, especially, was very restless.  He lay for a long time watching the sentinel, and thinking how easily he and his companions could effect their escape, if their hands and feet were free; then he wondered if Pierre was in earnest, when he said that he would make “scare-crows” of them if his messenger did not return by daylight; and, finally, he turned over, and tried, for the hundredth time, to go to sleep.