As the boys watched they saw a look of returning consciousness come to the man's features. He gazed about wonderingly, glanced at the three lads, and then around at the room where he lay. In the minds of Frank, Andy and Billy several questions came at once.
How had Shackmiller managed to get from the distant hospital to the ranch? What was he doing so near it in the storm? How had he come to be hurt?
"Where—where am I?" asked the man, feebly.
"You don't need to ask that; do you?" Billy inquired.
"Why, yes—of course," and the voice was stronger. "I know I was near some ranch when the storm came up, and then it all got dark. I was going to ask for shelter when something hit me on the head, and that's the last I know."
"But you know me; don't you?" asked Billy. "And you know my chums, the Racer boys. You saw us at the wreck, when the boiler exploded. You know me all right, Sam Shackmiller!"
"Shackmiller!" fairly cried the man, as he struggled to a sitting position. "Then you know me! But I don't know you. The Racer boys? I never heard of them. And you—you——"
"I'm Billy Chase—from whom you tried to get the land paper," said the ranch lad. "Only you didn't. But how does it come that you're out of the hospital, Sam Shackmiller?"
"Sam Shackmiller—I'm not Sam Shackmiller!" cried the man.
"Oh, come!" exclaimed Billy. "That's too thin. Why, we know you as well as you know us, even if you have grown your beard again. Come, if you're not Sam Shackmiller, who are you?"