Cowboy Dave | Page 9

I'll make good!" declared the cattle owner. "I'm going to stick now,
until something happens. It may be for the best, or it may be for the
worst. But I'll stick until I'm fairly beaten!
"The ranch needs more water, that's the main trouble. I haven't control
of the water rights I need. I can't go into the cattle business on a large
enough scale because of the lack of water. Rolling River and Forked
Branch, while well enough in their way, aren't big enough to stand the
dry years.
"That was the reason I was going to sell out, Dave, but I'm not now. I'm
going to stick. And now I'll tell you the secret concerning you--that is

as much of it as I know. It isn't much, for I know so little myself, so
you will not be much wiser than you are now."
"Won't I know who I am?" Dave asked in a low voice.
"No, Dave, for I can't tell you myself. I wish I could. I wish I could
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 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 know how to get along without you at the
ranch here. You must stay!"
"Oh, yes, I'll stay," said Dave.