"Dave, I don't know!"
CHAPTER IV
A SMALL STAMPEDE
Dave Carson—to use the name by which we must continue to call him, at least for a time—may have hoped for a different answer from the ranchman. Doubtless he did so hope, but now he was doomed to disappointment, for the words of Mr. Carson seemed final.
"Dave, I don't know," he repeated. "I don't know who you are, who your parents are, or even what your name is. I wish I did!"
Dave sank down in a chair. He seemed crushed. Mr. Carson, too, was somewhat overcome.
"There—there must be some explanation," said the lad at length, slowly.
"There is," was the reply. "I'll tell you all I know. I suppose I should have done it before, but I have been putting it off, I hoped there would be no need.
"I don't know just how Len and Whitey found it out," went on Mr. Carson. "If they had only kept still a little longer you might never have known, for I intended to go away from here soon."
"Go away from here, Dad?"