Then around the next bend above them came the leaders of the troop, riding four abreast, with loose rein, and followed by rank on rank, until a full hundred men appeared. In the lead rode the captain on a splendid black horse, not large, but beautifully built, a perfect thoroughbred. This captain was a young man, still in his thirties, beardless, bronzed, with the same hawklike nose of Amrath. The men in rank were some young, some middle-aged, and their appearance was startling. No two were dressed alike, although some form of the knee-length toga was worn by all. Some wore leggings, others rode bare-legged. Some wore remarkable helmets, not on their heads, but dangling at saddle bow, helmets of curious and exquisite workmanship. Some wore shirts of mail, of very fine links. One or two wore steel corslets. For arms, all carried long bows, quivers of arrows slung across their backs, short heavy swords by their sides like those carried by the ancient Roman centurions, and heavy spears. Perhaps a third also carried rifles. Rank on rank this troop rode past the plateau without conversation in the ranks, each man sitting easily in the saddle, grim faced or thoughtful. On every face was a look of fine intelligence, and quite evidently the force was composed of superior men. Jack and Frank were in a daze, lying with eyes glued to the strange sight, unable to puzzle out the meaning. Was this a troop of Athensian cavalry? Then why the ragged dress of the riders? As for Mr. Hampton, he, too, wondered, recalling that Amrath had said the common people of Athensi were steeped in ignorance. So, too, would be the Janissaries of the priest clan. Yet these men, stern and grim-faced all, looking like fighters, yet also had an appearance of great intelligence which he could not reconcile with his preconceived opinion of what the soldiers would be like. Bathed in the sunlight which fell into the canyon from almost directly overhead, so that the windless air was close and languid, the troop passed quickly, and the last rank came in sight. Only three men rode in it, and as they came abreast of Mr. Hampton one of this number, a fine looking young fellow of medium height, with crisp curling hair lying damp on his bared forehead, turned in the saddle and called to the fourth man some distance in the rear: “Jepthah, close up.” Mr. Hampton’s heart seemed to turn over in his breast. As for Jack and Frank and Ali, to whom he had repeated his conversation with Amrath, they, too, recognized the name of one of the exiles of Korakum described as “true men.” “Coming, Amonasis, coming,” called a voice merrily, and the man addressed as Jepthah came in sight. “A stone in his hoof,” he said patting the neck of his horse.