Had any one been in doubt for a moment, a glance at the centre of the crowd assembled round the gate of the western fortress would have quickly enlightened him.

For there stood Dick Varley, and his mild-looking mother, and his loving dog Crusoe.

There, too, stood Joe Blunt, like a bronzed warrior returned from the fight, turning from one to another as question poured in upon question almost too rapidly to permit of a reply.

There, too, stood Henri, making enthusiastic speeches to whoever chose to listen to him--now glaring at the crowd with clenched fists and growling voice, as he told of how Joe and he had been tied hand and foot, and lashed to poles, and buried in leaves, and threatened with a slow death by torture; at other times bursting into a hilarious laugh as he held forth on the predicament of Mahtawa, when that wily chief was treed by Crusoe in the prairie.

Young Marston was there, too, hanging about Dick, whom he loved as a brother and regarded as a perfect hero.
Grumps, too, was there, and Fan.