Nor did he ever take them into his confidence with regard to what the
contents of that scented missive might be. Even Will was not told.
However, like most brothers, it can be said that he did not seem overly
anxious to learn. He had, perhaps, secrets of his own.

Once again they were seated around the campfire. Supper had been, as
usual, a great success, and while the older members of the party smoked,
our boys amused themselves in various ways.

Will was, of course, busy with his photographic outfit. His field
dark-room was a success, and he developed his films, and did all other
things necessary, with little or no trouble. Indeed, he had an apparatus
whereby he could carry on this operation successfully even in the
daytime; but he usually worked at night, because there was nothing else
going on then.

The others had fallen into a conversation connected with their home
life. Reddy hovered near, listening, and Frank wondered why that wistful
look had come into the eyes of the young cowboy. Possibly he had a home
somewhere--perhaps memories of a mother or father had crowded into his
mind while the boys were talking of the sacred ties that bound them to
Centerville.

Frank had always believed there must be something of a history attached
to Reddy's past. He had even hoped that some time the other might take
such a liking to him as to speak of his own folks. His manner gave Frank
the impression that the dashing cowboy might have had a new longing
spring up in his breast since their coming to the ranch, a desire to
once again visit the scenes of his boyhood.