“Strange to say, I was arrested as his murderer, and sent to America for trial, for he was a man of vast wealth, and my wife was his only heir. For nearly two years I lay in prison, and then was acquitted, for no proof could be found against me.
“And yet, in all that time my wife did not come near me, nor did my stepfather or his son. At last I left my cell, and returned to my home, to find I had no home, no wife, no child. This man, Carter Bainbridge, had sold all my property that he could lay hands on, and my wife had gone off with the son, whose name was Ben Talbot.
“My child, I was told, was dead; and I believed it, especially when I received a letter from my misguided wife, bidding me farewell, and telling me that she intended to die by her own hand. Considerable property, left me by an aunt, I still had, and, with money at my disposal, I started to hunt down Carter Bainbridge and Ben Talbot.
“It was long and tedious work, but I tracked this old man, step by step, for a long time, and discovered much of his evil life—aye, I discovered that he had deceived another woman, who believed she became his wife, and was then cast off by him, after he had robbed her of her wealth, and left her and her boy to starve.
“That woman was the mother of the man known as Kansas King.”
With breathless suspense, all had listened to the story of Red Hand, and yet none were prepared for the sudden and startling assertion he made regarding the parentage of the outlaw chief.
As for Kansas King, he stood amazed and silent—for a moment—and then said bitterly:
“Red Hand, I feel that you speak the truth; tell me, old man, am I your son?”
“Is your right name Leo Randolph?” faintly asked the hermit.