Thomas asked and obtained permission from Mr. Nichols for the east-bound limited to stop at the way-station, and when Higgins and the others saw the ranchman and Bob on the platform, they were consumed with curiosity. "Kidnappin' John?" asked Higgins of Bob. But no satisfaction did he receive, the boy replying: "My sentiments about answering questions haven't changed since the first morning we met, Mr. Higgins." And while the others were laughing at their crony's discomfiture, the train arrived and the two travelers boarded it, with the well wishes of the agent ringing in their ears. At Kansas City Mr. Nichols joined them, saying he had decided to go on to New York, where they would meet Mr. Perkins, both being determined to bring Bob into his own. A happy party they made, Bob recounting his experiences, Ford adding his dry comments, and Mr. Nichols enjoying the boy's development and manliness. As they were rehearsing the story for the twentieth time, Mr. Nichols asked: "Have you learned, Bob, who the man with the scar is?" "What sort of a scar?" demanded the ranchman, before the boy could answer. And as Bob described it, he exclaimed: "That's Knuckles, your father's old foreman!" "Good. I'll find him and take him back with me," returned Bob; "that is, if things come out right." "Don't worry about that," smiled Mr. Nichols knowingly. And when they arrived in New York and met Mr. Perkins, these words were explained, for Bob's patrons had set detectives at work and had learned all there was to be learned about Len Dardus, even to the banks in which he kept his money, and how much he had. After holding a consultation and marshaling their evidence, it was decided to call in two members of the city detective force, and upon their arrival, the party set out for the grocery store where Bob had passed so many unhappy days. No one was about when the six men entered, and, leaving Bob alone, the others withdrew to the corners of the store where the shadows practically hid them. The proprietor had heard the footsteps, however, and shuffled from his private office. No farther did he get than the threshold before he saw and recognized Bob. "You!" he gasped, turning pale. "What do you want here?" "I want the money you have stolen from me, Len Dardus! I want my father's ranch in Red Top back. I want you to say you lied when you said my father was crazy when he died!" The tone in which the boy spoke was cold and bitter. Yet, instead of terrifying the storekeeper, it caused him to laugh as he exclaimed: "You can't blackmail me, you ungrateful young wretch! Get out of here, before I call the police! I steal your money, indeed! Insanity seems to run in the Chester family!" "Do you think so, Len Dardus?" demanded the ranchman, suddenly emerging from the shadow. "John Ford!" gasped the storekeeper, his bravado deserting him at the sight of this friend of Bob's father.