"What?" exclaimed Ford, turning so suddenly that he almost unseated the boy.
"My name isn't Bob Nichols, Mr. Ford. It's Bob Chester!"
"Then I wasn't wrong! I wasn't wrong!" murmured the ranchman. And the next moment he was hugging Bob to his breast, sobbing over him and caressing him.
The sight of their stern, unemotional employer weeping like a woman over Bob astounded the cowboys, and eagerly they closed around him, though they were too impressed by the scene to speak.
But as soon as he recovered his composure, Ford exclaimed:
"Boys, Bob is the son of the best friend I ever had—Horace Chester. I was struck by the resemblance when I first laid eyes on him. When he told me his name, I thought I must be mistaken. But Chester knew better. That's why the dog took to him. He recognized the blood.
"And now you all ride on. Bob and I want to talk."
Reluctantly the cowboys obeyed and when they were out of hearing, Bob spoke, giving a detailed account of the reasons why he had come to Fairfax, the experiences through which he had passed while on the way, his discoveries about his father's property, and finally showed the ranchman the precious letter.
"And Leon Dardus kept you at drudgery, denying you your money, even trying to make you believe your father was insane!" remarked Ford, as the narration ended. "I knew he was a villain. That will is a forgery, Bob. We'll get back the property for you, never fear. Dardus may have money. But your friends Perkins and Nichols have more. I made a vow when Dardus beat me on the will that when I had one hundred thousand dollars I'd track him down and solve this mystery. But now it won't be necessary to wait.