"Yes. He was all of that."
"Say! WAS he my father?"
Ellsworth started. "What do you mean?"
Dave lifted an abstracted gaze from the Pullman carpet. "I hardly know what I mean, Judge. But you've had hunches, haven't you? Didn't you ever KNOW that something you thought was true wasn't true at all? Well, I never felt as if I had Frank Law's blood in me."
"This is interesting!" Ellsworth stirred and leaned forward. "Whatever made you doubt it, Dave?"
"Um-m. Nothing definite. That's what's so unsatisfactory. But, for instance, my mother was Mexican—-"
"Spanish."
"All right. Am I Spanish? Have I any Spanish blood in me?"
"She didn't look Spanish. She was light-complexioned, for one thing. We both know plenty of people with a Latin strain in them who look like Anglo-Saxons. Isn't there anything else?"
"Nothing I can lay my finger on, except some kid fancies and—that hunch I spoke about."