Turning he saw a man of forty-five, well dressed, and apparently a man of position. "Did you wish to speak to me, sir?" he inquired. "Yes," answered the stranger. "You will, perhaps, think me curious if I ask your name?" "My name is Robert Rudd." Robert thought it probable that the stranger had seen him riding somewhere, and recognized him from this, though he could not call him by name. But the name seemed to tell the inquirer nothing. On the contrary, he appeared to be disappointed. "I suppose I am mistaken, then," he said, apologetically; "but I can only say in apology for my curiosity, that you bear a remarkable resemblance to an old school-mate of mine." "Who was he?" asked Robert, eagerly. It must be borne in mind that the boy knew nothing of his own family, and earnestly desired, though he never expected, to solve the mystery of his birth. "His name was Julian Richmond. Are you, by chance, related to him?" "Not that I know of," answered Robert, soberly. "Would you mind telling me something about him?" Rather wondering at our hero's curiosity in regard to a man of whom he had never before heard, the stranger answered, "Certainly, if you would like to hear. Julian and I were school-fellows together in Albany, where I live now. His father, old Cornelius Richmond, was a rich man. I believe he is still living on a fine estate along the Hudson. When we grew up the Richmonds moved away and I lost sight of them. I heard, however, that Julian went out West and married. A coldness sprang up between him and his father, for what reason I don't know. I don't know whether they were ever reconciled. At any rate, poor Julian died, as I some time after heard, leaving his father childless. If you were Julian's son you could not look more like him." Robert listened to this communication with intense interest. Could it be that this Julian Richmond was his father? It was the first clew of any kind that he had ever found, and he repeated over to himself the names of Julian and Cornelius Richmond, determined to remember them, and some time to make further inquiries. Meanwhile Fitzgerald, turning, noticed that Robert was conversing with a stranger. Though he was far from suspecting that an important secret has been revealed to the boy, he was naturally of a cautious temperament, and he thought it imprudent to allow Robert to become intimate with any one, lest possibly when he disappeared he might be suspected of having had some agency in the affair. He therefore walked up rapidly to where the two were conversing. "Robert," he called, when two rods distant. Robert obeyed the summons. "I think we will go back to the hotel. I have something to do before leaving Niagara, and there is not much time." "O, Mr. Fitzgerald," said Robert, eagerly, "that gentleman tells me I look very much like an old school-mate of his."