“That’s so,” said Archie, to himself.

“They’ll never reach the settlement if I can help it,” declared Arthur.  “If I get my eyes on one of them, I bet he don’t escape.  I’ll take him prisoner.”

Perhaps we shall find that Arthur did “get his eyes on one of them,” and we shall see how he kept his promise.

The party went entirely around the glade, passing directly beneath Archie, who held himself in readiness to continue his flight, should they begin to ascend the cliff, and finally one of them called out: 

“They’re not here, Pierre.”

“Mount, then, every one of you,” exclaimed the chief.  “When you reach the end of the pass, scatter out and search the mountains, thoroughly.  Antoine, we have to thank you for the loss of a fortune, you idiot.”

Archie heard the Ranchero mutter an angry reply, and then came the tramping of horses as the band rode from the glade.  In a few seconds the sound died away in the pass, and the fugitive was left alone.  His first impulse was to descend into the glade, mount Sleepy Sam, and follow the robbers.  Archie could ride the animal without saddle or bridle as well as he could with them; and he was sure that if he could get but a few feet the start of the Rancheros, his favorite could easily distance them.  But he remembered the chief’s order for the band to “scatter out,” and knowing that every path that led toward the settlement would be closely guarded, and fearing that he might run against some of his enemies in the dark, he decided that the safest plan was to remain upon the cliffs, where he could not be followed by mounted men.  It cost him a struggle to abandon his horse, which was galloping about the glade, and neighing disconsolately, but he wisely concluded that twenty thousand dollars were worth more to his uncle than Sleepy Sam was to him; and drawing in a long breath, he tightened his sash about his waist, and again began the ascent.

His progress was necessarily slow and laborious, for, in some places, the cliff was quite perpendicular, and the only way he could advance at all, was by drawing himself up by the grass and bushes that grew out of the crevices of the rocks.  Sometimes these gave way beneath his weight, and then Archie would descend the mountain for a short distance much more rapidly than he had gone up.  He was often badly bruised by these falls.  The bushes and the sharp points of the rocks tore his clothing, and it was not long before he was as ragged as any beggar he had ever seen in the streets of his native city.

“By gracious!” exclaimed Archie, stopping for the hundredth time to rest, and feeling of a severe bruise on his cheek which he had received in his last fall, “I am completely tired out.  And this is all the work of that Benedict Arnold!  Didn’t I say that we should see trouble with that fellow?  If I were out on clear ground, and had my horse and gun, I’d be willing to forgive him for what he has done to me, but I’ll always remember that he struck Johnny over the head, when he was tied, and could not defend himself.”