Finally, with a decision characteristic of him, and following his nature, which was influenced by the openness of action associated with the West, he made up his mind. "I'll go right back and see him," reasoned the boy, "tell him who I am, show him that I know he's been cheating us, and demand that he make good the money he has taken. Then I'll see how he acts. If he pays back the rent money he has retained I guess dad will not be hard on him. If he doesn't--" Roy knew his father was a man who would have his rights if there was any way of getting them. He had half a notion to telegraph his father for instructions, but he wanted to do the work all alone, if he could. When he got back to the office where Mr. Annister had his rooms, the boy in the outer apartment did not stop Roy to ask him his business. He at once announced him to the agent, who told Roy to come in. The boy from the ranch nerved himself for what was coming. He felt just as he used to when, for the first time, he mounted a new bucking bronco. There was no telling just what the animal would do. Likewise he did not know how Caleb Annister would act when he exposed his rascality. "Well, did you see the offices?" asked the real estate man. "Yes, sir." "Did you like them? We think they are the best in New York." "They are very fine. The rents are higher than I thought to find them." "Perhaps, but you must know there is a good demand for offices in that neighborhood. I could have rented them several times, since they were vacant, but I wanted to get good tenants, who would pay." "You have no cheaper offices you could let Mr. De Royster have?" "None. In fact I am thinking of raising the rents of those." Roy wondered if he and his father would get any of the increase. "That property must be quite valuable," he went on. "It is." Roy now felt that the real estate agent had convicted himself. There was need of no further evidence. It was time to make the disclosure. "Mr. Annister," said Roy. "Perhaps I had better introduce myself. Here is my card." He handed over one on which he had written his name, and the address of his father's ranch, as well as that of the hotel where he was stopping. For a moment the agent did not know what to do, as he looked at the bit of pasteboard. His face became pale, then red, then pale again. Next he smiled, in a sickly sort of way. "So you are Roy Bradner, son of James Bradner, eh?" he asked, slowly. "Yes, sir." "Well, that's--that's a pretty good joke," went on the agent. "A pretty good joke." Roy could not quite see it. "You come East here, and pretend to want an office in the building your father owns, and you take me in completely. That is a good joke. But I see what you are after." "That will save a lot of explanation then, Mr. Annister."