"Why--yes," said Dave, after a moment. "I have no other place to go. And I certainly owe you a deep debt of gratitude for your care of a nameless orphan for so many years." "Don't say that, Dave! Don't call yourself nameless. You can have my name, and welcome! You know that. I want you to have it. I will legally adopt you if necessary. And as for owing me--don't name it! You were welcome to all I could do, and more. Why, you have been like a son to me. I wouldn't know how to get along without you at the ranch here. You must stay!" "Oh, yes, I'll stay," said Dave. And then he added, with, perhaps, the least tinge of bitterness in his voice: "I have no where else to go." "Then stay!" was the eager invitation. "I need you, Dave! And if those skunks bother you any more--" "Oh, I'm not worrying about them," Dave said, quickly. "I don't mind their taunts. After all, it is no disgrace not to know who I am under the circumstances. Perhaps, some day, I may find out." "Perhaps," said Mr. Carson, softly, but he did not really believe that such an event would happen. "Is that all you can tell about me--Dad?" asked Dave. "That's right! Don't forget to call me dad!" exclaimed the ranchman, and his tone showed more delight than at any time since the talk. "For I am just the same as your father. But, Dave, I'm afraid I can't give you any clews. You were only a baby at the time, and I don't even remember just now, much as to how you were dressed. You came down the flood in part of a wrecked house. You were in a cradle in the exposed upper story when I got you out. I was going around in a boat doing what rescue work I could. I turned you over to some women, temporarily, and claimed you later. That's about all there is to it. I came out West with you and--here we are now. And now, since the secret is out, I'm going to make it known to all who care to listen. There is no use trying to keep it under cover any more." "What do you mean, Dad?" "I mean I'll tell every one connected with Bar U ranch. We'll take the wind out of the sails of Molick, Wasson and their like. We won't have them sneering at us. I'll tell the men here." "I fancy Pocus Pete knows something about it," Dave said. "He must have heard what Whitey and Len said to me." "Well, we'll tell him the whole story. It's no disgrace." And this was done. Soon all the cowboys on Bar U ranch knew the story, and talk buzzed around concerning it. But no one thought the less of Dave. In fact his friends and those of Mr. Carson were warmer than before. Then the matter was tacitly dropped, and was never mentioned among the cowboys of Bar U ranch. For a time the knowledge hurt Dave cruelly. Then he grew more accustomed to it. But though he called Mr. Carson "Dad" there was more or less of reserve. And Dave found himself many times, wondering who his real parents could be. "Some day I may find out," he said.