Together they rode home in the early evening. Now that the work of the day was over Dave's mind went back to the scene of the morning, when he had handled his baby garments and the cork jacket. His manner must have been strange and distracted, for Mr. Bellmore said: "What's the matter, Dave? You act as though you had lost your last friend." "Well, I have, in a way," was the unexpected answer. "You have! What do you mean? Seems to me, if I were you, with the kind of a father you have, and a dandy ranch like this I'd be the happiest fellow on--" "I haven't any father!" burst out Dave. "And that's the trouble. Oh, it's just as Len Molick said--I'm a nameless nobody!" and his voice choked and broke. Mr. Bellmore rode his horse over beside Crow. He put his arm around the lad, who hung his head. "Look here, old man!" said the engineer. "I don't want to intrude, but if it will do you any good, tell me all about it!" "I will!" exclaimed Dave, taking a sudden resolve. "I wasn't going to tell you," he went on, after a pause, "for, though some of the fellows at the ranch know it, and though some over at Centre O do, also, still I wasn't going to tell you. I was so happy before I knew it." Then, slowly, and haltingly, he told how Len Molick had fired the taunt at him and how, upon making inquiries of Mr. Carson, the latter had confirmed the rumor, saying that Dave was not his son, though he loved him as such. "And where did you say he found you?" asked the engineer. There was a curious light in his eyes, and an eager expectancy in his manner. "It was during a flood somewhere in Missouri. I've forgotten the exact name of the place. He can tell you. He picked me up on some wreckage, and looked after me. That was a long while ago--or at least it seems so," Dave remarked with a smile. "It couldn't have been so very long ago. You're not more than twenty; are you, Dave?" "Nineteen, I think. Of course I don't know my exact age." "No, I suppose not. Then I'm not so much older than you. I'm twenty-seven. But yours is a strange story. Dave, we are brothers in misfortune." "Brothers in misfortune! What do you mean?" cried the young cowboy. "I mean, that I haven't any near relatives either. And while I do know who I am, and who my parents were, still that isn't much satisfaction. I have lost them." "Lost them?" Dave echoed. "Yes, and in a flood, such as nearly claimed your life. I must find out just what town you came from. It may be that our folks lived in the same place. It would be a strange coincidence, but it might be that it is so. I lost all my folks, including a baby brother in a Western flood. I don't know many of the particulars, for I was with relatives in Ohio at the time, so I escaped. "I am anxious to hear Mr. Carson's story. It interests me mightily. To think that we have gone through much the same sort of suffering. But I should have thought so small a baby as you must have been at the time would have been drowned."