It is a rule that seldom fails, that when one meets a braggadocio, he can put him down as a coward. We have seen that it held good in Arthur's case; for, although he had not caught the smallest glimpse of the animal in the bushes, he was so terrified that he had run his horse eight miles; and, while he was plunging his spurs into the gray's sides at almost every jump, he imagined that the animal was running away with him. He was so badly frightened that he did not pause to consider that he might have occasioned a great deal of unnecessary anxiety and alarm by the stories he had circulated. He really believed that every word he had uttered was the truth; and he reached this conclusion by a process of reasoning perfectly satisfactory to himself. He had heard the growls and snarls uttered by the animal in the bushes, when attacked by the dogs, and they were so appalling, that he felt safe in believing that they came from some terrible monster. The conduct of the hounds, and of Johnny's horse, confirmed this opinion. Besides, Frank and Archie had pronounced the animal a grizzly, and Arthur was quite sure it was; for nothing else, except a lion or tiger, could have uttered such growls. He had heard that grizzlies were very tenacious of life, and hard to whip, and, consequently, it followed, as a thing of course, that Frank and Archie, and the dogs, were utterly annihilated. "I'm safe, thank goodness!" said Arthur, to himself. "If those fellows were foolish enough to stay there and be clawed to pieces, that's their lookout and not mine. Johnny Harris insulted me by calling me a coward. He may escape from the bear, and if he does, I shall think up a plan to punish him." When Arthur reached home, he repeated his story as he had told it to Mr. Harris and Uncle James, and he straightway found himself a hero. He had seen a grizzly bear with terrible claws, and a frightful array of teeth; his horse had run away with him, and carried him eight miles before he could stop him, and he had come home with a whole skin. It was wonderful. Arthur threw on airs accordingly. He strutted about among the herdsmen, and entertained his servant, a Mexican boy about his own age, named Pedro, with a description of the fight, in which he had seen four fierce dogs completely demolished. Pedro complimented him highly, and the Rancheros called him a brave lad--although Arthur himself failed to see what he had done that was deserving of praise. He went to bed in excellent spirits, and was awakened in the morning, about daylight, by Pedro, who came into his room, carrying in his hand a double-barreled shot-gun, a tomahawk, and sheath-knife, and, under his arm, he held a hat, and a bundle wrapped up in a newspaper. Pedro held his sombrero over his face, so that nothing could be seen but his eyes, which were brimful of laughter.