At last the scout insisted on turning aside from the immigrant road for a visit to the old settlement on the borders of Missouri where he had been born. His visit, however, was not prolonged. He found that the old cabin in which his family had lived was now a deserted ruin. As he recalled the place it had been filled to overflowing with the large family which had made it its home. Now, not one member of his family was to be found in the region. Whither they all had gone or what had become of them he was unable to discover. Disappointed by the results of his visit, the scout renewed his journey to Pain Court, and at last the travellers found themselves within the limits of the place they were seeking. But what a change had come over all things there. The little trading-post had become a large town. Streets had been laid out which to the trappers seemed to be crowded with people passing to and fro. In amazement the strangers looked all about them as they entered, unable to recognize any familiar faces. It was not long, however, before Reuben decided that he would leave his companions for a time and do his utmost to discover whether or not his father was still living. CHAPTER XXIX—THE GREAT SCOUT AND THE GREAT EXPLORER Several days elapsed before the young trapper obtained any definite clue concerning his father. At that time, however, he was informed by the woman with whom he was boarding that she also had been making inquiries for him, as she had become greatly interested in her young boarder. She had been informed by a woman who occasionally visited her place with vegetables for sale that she had heard of a man named Benton who was in the poorhouse in a nearby town. Faint as the clue was, Reuben decided to follow it. When at last he was admitted into the room in which the man who bore the same name as he was found, he said quickly: “That’s not the man. He isn’t my father.” “Better look again,” suggested the keeper of the place. “You say it has been a good many years since you saw him.” “Yes, it has been a long time,” replied Reuben slowly, as again he looked keenly at the old and decrepit man before him. The man’s hair was long, his clothing unkempt, but what appealed most strongly to Reuben was the fact that the man was totally blind. At the sound of his voice there had been a strange and sudden movement on the part of the blind man. He turned his sightless face in the direction from which Reuben’s voice had been heard and a change in his expression quickly came over his countenance. There was a change, too, in Reuben at the same moment, for in the face upon which he was looking there now were certain features that somehow dimly reminded him of the father he had known in the years long gone. “Your voice sounds like the voice of a boy of mine,” suggested the old man in trembling tones. “What was his name?” inquired Reuben. “Reuben Benton.” “And what is your name?” “My name is William Benton.”