“It continued nearly two years, and was brought about by the hatred the Choctaws cherished toward the white people.”

“Three mistakes there,” thought Archie.  “The war lasted seven years, and cost our Government forty millions of dollars.  The Choctaws had nothing to do with it.  It was the Seminoles and Creeks—­principally the former.  The immediate cause of the trouble was the attempt on the part of the Government to remove those tribes to the country west of the Mississippi.  They didn’t want to go, and they were determined they wouldn’t; and, consequently, they got themselves decently whipped.  If Arthur was thirty-five years of age when he went into the war, and spent two years in it, he was thirty-seven when he came out.”

“After the war closed,” continued Arthur, “I went to Patagonia, and there I spent five years.”

“Thirty-seven and five are forty-two,” said Archie, to himself.

“I had a great many thrilling adventures in Patagonia.  The country is one immense desert, and being directly under the equator, it is—­if you will for once allow me to use a slang expression—­as hot as a frying-pan.  The Arabs are hostile, and are more troublesome than ever the Indians were on the plains.  From Patagonia I went to Europe, and there I spent six years in hunting lions and tigers.”

“Forty-eight,” thought Archie; “and Patagonia isn’t under the equator, either.”

“That must have been exciting,” said Frank, while Johnny looked over his shoulder, and grinned at Archie.

“It was indeed exciting, and dangerous, too.  It takes a man with nerves of iron to stand perfectly still, and let a roaring lion walk up within ten paces of him, before he puts a bullet through his head.”

“Could you do it?”

“Could I?  I have done it more than once.  If one of those ferocious animals were here now, I would give you a specimen of my shooting, which is an accomplishment in which I can not be beaten.  I expect that you would be so badly frightened that you would desert me, and leave me to fight him alone.”

“Wouldn’t you run?”

“Not an inch.”

“Would you fire that blunderbuss at him?” asked Johnny.

“Blunderbuss?” repeated Arthur.

“That shot-gun, I mean.”

“Certainly I would.  You see I have the nerve to do it.  From Europe I went to India, and there I risked my life for six years more among the polar bears.”

“Forty-eight and six are fifty-four,” soliloquized Archie.

“After that I went to the plains, where I remained three years; and when the governor wrote to me that he was about to remove from Kentucky, I resigned my commission as captain of scouts, and here I am.  I must confess that I am sorry enough for it; for I never saw a duller country than California.  There’s no society here, no excitement—­nothing to stir up a fellow’s blood.”

“Fifty-four and three are fifty-seven,” said Archie.