"Yes," answered the stranger. "You will, perhaps, think me curious if I ask your name?"
"My name is Robert Rudd."
Robert thought it probable that the stranger had seen him riding somewhere, and recognized him from this, though he could not call him by name. But the name seemed to tell the inquirer nothing. On the contrary, he appeared to be disappointed.
"I suppose I am mistaken, then," he said, apologetically; "but I can only say in apology for my curiosity, that you bear a remarkable resemblance to an old school-mate of mine."
"Who was he?" asked Robert, eagerly.
It must be borne in mind that the boy knew nothing of his own family, and earnestly desired, though he never expected, to solve the mystery of his birth.
"His name was Julian Richmond. Are you, by chance, related to him?"
"Not that I know of," answered Robert, soberly. "Would you mind telling me something about him?"
Rather wondering at our hero's curiosity in regard to a man of whom he had never before heard, the stranger answered, "Certainly, if you would like to hear. Julian and I were school-fellows together in Albany, where I live now. His father, old Cornelius Richmond, was a rich man. I believe he is still living on a fine estate along the Hudson. When we grew up the Richmonds moved away and I lost sight of them. I heard, however, that Julian went out West and married. A coldness sprang up between him and his father, for what reason I don't know. I don't know whether they were ever reconciled. At any rate, poor Julian died, as I some time after heard, leaving his father childless. If you were Julian's son you could not look more like him."