“Officers, if this man does not sign this paper within two minutes, arrest him,” exclaimed Mr. Perkins.

Quickly the detectives moved one to either side of Len Dardus.

“All right, I’ll sign,” he moaned, sinking into a chair.

And, after reading the words admitting his guilt, he affixed his name.

“Now, tell Bob you lied to him about his father.”

“Horace—­Chester—­was—­not—­insane.”

“Good, I am glad you are reasonable.  Now, come with us in our automobile and withdraw the money you have in the banks.”

Realizing resistance was vain, Dardus obeyed.

At each bank the boy’s benefactors compared their private notes with the amounts the storekeeper withdrew, and, when the task was ended, Bob had fifty thousand dollars in addition to the ranch.

As they emerged from the last bank, however, they did not take the storekeeper into their car, but left him standing on the steps, the picture of woe.

“Now, we’ll have a good dinner,” announced Mr. Nichols.

During the meal the men who had been so kind to Bob asked him what he intended to do.

“Go back to the ranch and live with John Ford,” was the boy’s ready reply.

“Yes.  We’re going into partnership,” added the grizzled plainsman.

“And whenever you want a rest or some hunting, there’ll be two ranches at your disposal,” chimed in Bob, to the railroad magnates.

Before the boy returned to the West, he gave a hundred-dollar bill to Nellie Porter, the waitress who had befriended him, and he also found Knuckles, who was overjoyed to resume his position as foreman of the Chester ranch.

The firm of Ford & Chester prospered.  Many times did Mr. Perkins and Mr. Nichols, as well as Jack Foster, the reporter, visit the partners, continuing to exercise a kindly interest in their welfare, and especially the welfare of Bob Chester.

* * * * *

Transcriber’s Notes: 

   Punctuation normalized.

   Varied capitalization on “the limited/the Limited” retained.

   Page 80, “flee-bitten” changed to “flea-bitten.”