"I am Bruce Shackmiller, Sam's twin brother," was the quick answer, and the boys gasped in astonishment.
"Bruce Shackmiller!" cried Billy.
"His twin brother!" added Frank.
"Yes," went on the man, "and if you know anything about him, for pity's sake tell me. I have been looking all over for him, ever since he went East. He wrote me that he was coming out West again, and then I lost trace of him. I was on my way to Sageville, to go and hunt him up, for he has friends there, when this storm overtook me. Oh, if you can tell me anything about him I wish you would!"
The boys were too astonished to speak, at first. In fact, they doubted that the man spoke the truth, and, seeing this on their faces, he went on:
"I can easily prove that I am not Sam. He was lame, wasn't he?"
"Yes!" exclaimed Billy, eagerly.
"Well, I am not. See!" and, in spite of his weakness, the man walked across the floor with never the semblance of a limp. "Sam and I are twins," he went on, "and we are so near alike, except that he is lame, that few can tell us apart. And yet there are several points where we do not resemble each other. His eyes are blue, and mine are brown."
"That's right," said the puzzled Billy, after a look. "But I surely took you for Sam."
"Nearly everyone does. Oh, but what has become of him?"