The boys were in a state of siege. Every opening, except the port-holes, through which a breath of air might find its way in to them, was closed, and the room was as hot as an oven. They were perspiring like butchers; but not one of them thought of throwing open a door or window. Frank was stretched out on the bed, drumming on his guitar; Archie was walking restlessly up and down the floor, thrashing his boots with his riding whip; Dick Thomas was looking up at the pictures on the walls; and Johnny Harris was standing with his face close to one of the port-holes, fanning himself vigorously with his hat. Silence reigned in the room, broken only by the crack of Archie’s whip, and light footsteps outside the door, with which were occasionally mingled low angry growls, and the rattling of a chain. None of the boys had spoken during the last ten minutes; and that, to those who knew them, would have been sufficient evidence that they were thinking about something exciting. “Frank,” said Archie, at last, “why don’t you stop that noise? I don’t see how you can lie there and pound on that thing. One would think you were making merry over our misfortune.” Frank very good-naturedly laid down the obnoxious guitar, and placing his hands under his head, looked at Archie as if waiting to hear what he had to say next. “I would do something desperate, if I only had half a chance,” continued the latter, shaking his fist in the air, and flourishing his whip about so recklessly that Dick retreated into a corner, out of his reach. “If I had those villains here I’d--I’d”---- “O, take it easy,” said Frank. “I don’t see the use of making any fuss about it, for the mischief has been done, and we can’t help it.” “Take it easy!” repeated Archie, in disgust, “how can I? It would provoke any body in the world, except you, and you never get provoked at any thing. I don’t believe you are even sorry.” “Yes, I am. I feel as badly about it as you do. I would not have lost Roderick for five hundred dollars. He carried me many a mile, and I owned him so long that I had become greatly attached to him. He was the swiftest and best trained horse in the settlement.” “Except mine,” returned Archie, quickly. “Would your horse walk on his hind legs, or pick up your hat or whip for you? Mine would; and if Roderick was not once badly beaten by him in a fair race, no horse was ever beaten in the world.”