you, so I brought you out West with me, and here we've been ever since,
living just like father and son."

"And do you think my parents are--are dead?" Dave faltered.

"I am afraid so," was the low answer. "There were many grown folk and
children who perished in the flood. At any rate, Dave, I have kept you
ever since.

"How this Whitey Wasson learned the secret I can not say. I did hope it
would never be brought to your knowledge, though I made no effort, at the
time I rescued you, to conceal the fact that I had, in a measure, adopted
you. I suppose Whitey must have heard the story from some one who was in
the flooded Missouri district at the time and who has since come West.

"But that is how the matter stands. You are not really my son, though you
are as dear to me as though you were. I hope this will make no difference
to you--knowing this secret. I want you to continue living here just as
you always have. In fact it would break my heart if you were to leave me
after all these years. You will stay; won't you?" and he held out his
hands appealingly.

"Why--yes," said Dave, after a moment. "I have no other place to go. And I
certainly owe you a deep debt of gratitude for your care of a nameless
orphan for so many years."

"Don't say that, Dave! Don't call yourself nameless. You can have my name,
and welcome! You know that. I want you to have it. I will legally adopt
you if necessary. And as for owing me--don't name it! You were welcome to
all I could do, and more. Why, you have been like a son to me. I wouldn't