either really find your parents, or know that I had a good legal claim on
you. But that is impossible.

"Some years ago, Dave, I was in business in Missouri. I was doing fairly
well, but I always had a hankering to get out West and raise cattle. I had
lived on a ranch when I was a small lad--in fact all my people were
ranchers--and I longed for the life of which I had had only a little
taste.

"So I planned to sell out, raise all the money I could, and buy a ranch. I
had my plans all made when one spring there came a big flood that
practically wiped out the town where I was then living, as well as a
number of others along that part of the Missouri River. There was rescue
work to be done, and I did my share, I guess.

"Among the others whom I saved from the wreckage of houses, barns and
other debris that rushed down the river was a little baby boy."

Dave caught his breath sharply.

"You were that little chap, Dave," went on the ranchman, after a pause.
"As cute a little chap as I ever saw. I fell in love with you right away,
and so did a number of women folks who were helping in the rescue work.
They all wanted you, but I said if no one who had a legal claim on you
came for you, that I would keep you.

"And that's what happened. I could not find out where you came from, nor
who your folks were, though I made many inquiries. I had been about to
start for the West when the flood came, but I delayed a bit, wanting to
give your parents, if they were alive, a fair show. But no one claimed