The house in which Frank and Archie lived stood in a grove of stately
oak-trees, and, externally, was in perfect keeping with its
surroundings. It was built of massive logs, in the form of a hollow
square, with an open court in the center, which was paved with stone.
The windows, which extended down to the floor, and which were used for
ingress and egress quite as often as the doors, were protected by
shutters made of heavy planks, and there were four loop-holes on each
side of the house, showing that it had been intended to serve as a
defense as well as a shelter. Indeed, it looked more like a
fortification than a dwelling.

The house was old, and had a history--an exciting one, too, as any one
could have told after examining it closely. The walls bore numerous
scars, which had been made by bullets, and the trees surrounding the
dwelling were marked in the same manner. The grove had not always been
as peaceful and quiet as we found it. Its echoes had been awakened by
the yells of infuriated men and the reports of hostile rifles, and the
very sod upon which Frank sometimes stretched himself after dinner, to
while away an hour with some favorite author, had been wet with blood.

When the house was built, there was not another human habitation within
a circle of twenty miles. The country was an unbroken wilderness. Mr.
Winters's nearest neighbors were bands of roving freebooters, who robbed
all who came in their way. They did not, however, content themselves
with waylaying solitary travelers. They frequently made organized
attacks upon remote farm-houses, and one night they made a sudden
descent upon Mr. Winters's rancho. But the old frontiersman had lived
too long in that country, and was too well acquainted with the
character of his neighbors, to be caught napping. He and his Rancheros
were armed to the teeth, and prepared for a fight; and, after a siege of