Drawing rein, Bob dismounted at the store, went inside and asked where he could find out who owned property in the town fifteen years ago.
The interest of the loungers in the boy was no whit lessened by this question and several of them chorused:
"The Land Office, right next door."
Thanking them collectively, Bob went out, leaving the idlers to speculate over his identity and purpose.
But though he found the Land Office without difficulty, he could make neither head nor tail out of the records.
Noticing the perplexity on his face, the clerk, a kindly-faced, gray-haired man, asked him for what he was searching.
"To see if Horace Chester ever owned any property in Red Top."
"I can tell you that without looking," replied the clerk. "He had one of the best ranches in Oklahoma. It was good when he died. But it's worth ten times as much now."
This information set Bob's head in a whirl, and for some minutes he could not speak, but when he did, he asked hesitatingly:
"Was he—was he crazy?"