“Hands up!” commanded Ford.  “That’s the way!  Now, boys, take their guns and knives, then bind their hands behind their backs and each carry one behind you.  We’re going to take them to Red Top jail.”

While his cowboys were obeying his instructions with no gentle hands, Ford mounted his horse, keeping Bob behind him.

After the troop was under way, the ranchman asked: 

“What made you take such a chance for me, boy?”

“Because you were a friend of my father!” replied Bob simply.

“What?” exclaimed Ford, turning so suddenly that he almost unseated the boy.

“My name isn’t Bob Nichols, Mr. Ford.  It’s Bob Chester!”

“Then I wasn’t wrong!  I wasn’t wrong!” murmured the ranchman.  And the next moment he was hugging Bob to his breast, sobbing over him and caressing him.

The sight of their stern, unemotional employer weeping like a woman over Bob astounded the cowboys, and eagerly they closed around him, though they were too impressed by the scene to speak.

But as soon as he recovered his composure, Ford exclaimed: 

“Boys, Bob is the son of the best friend I ever had—­Horace Chester.  I was struck by the resemblance when I first laid eyes on him.  When he told me his name, I thought I must be mistaken.  But Chester knew better.  That’s why the dog took to him.  He recognized the blood.

“And now you all ride on.  Bob and I want to talk.”

Reluctantly the cowboys obeyed and when they were out of hearing, Bob spoke, giving a detailed account of the reasons why he had come to Fairfax, the experiences through which he had passed while on the way, his discoveries about his father’s property, and finally showed the ranchman the precious letter.

“And Leon Dardus kept you at drudgery, denying you your money, even trying to make you believe your father was insane!” remarked Ford, as the narration ended.  “I knew he was a villain.  That will is a forgery, Bob.  We’ll get back the property for you, never fear.  Dardus may have money.  But your friends Perkins and Nichols have more.  I made a vow when Dardus beat me on the will that when I had one hundred thousand dollars I’d track him down and solve this mystery.  But now it won’t be necessary to wait.

“Right will conquer, every time, Bob!”

CHAPTER XXV

FROM RANCH TO RICHES

Bob asked many questions about his father on the ride to Red Top, learning that he had died from pneumonia; that his mother had died soon after Bob was born, and that it had been his father’s dying request that he be sent to New York, where he could grow up and receive the education he himself had been denied.  But their arrival at Red Top put an end to their conversation and they turned to the matter at hand.

As the citizens saw Bob’s pursuers return captives they were amazed, and when they learned the reason they expressed in no uncertain terms their anger at having been made to chase an innocent boy.