"It is."
Roy now felt that the real estate agent had convicted himself. There was need of no further evidence. It was time to make the disclosure.
"Mr. Annister," said Roy. "Perhaps I had better introduce myself. Here is my card."
He handed over one on which he had written his name, and the address of his father's ranch, as well as that of the hotel where he was stopping.
For a moment the agent did not know what to do, as he looked at the bit of pasteboard. His face became pale, then red, then pale again. Next he smiled, in a sickly sort of way.
"So you are Roy Bradner, son of James Bradner, eh?" he asked, slowly.
"Yes, sir."
"Well, that's—that's a pretty good joke," went on the agent. "A pretty good joke."
Roy could not quite see it.
"You come East here, and pretend to want an office in the building your father owns, and you take me in completely. That is a good joke. But I see what you are after."