“And so you really got what you went for; eh, boys?” asked Mr. Alden, proprietor of Big B ranch, as the trio rode in. “Well, you had luck.”
“Both kinds—good and bad,” remarked Hank, as he told how, after getting the rare films, they had nearly been lost again.
“And you rescued your enemies, too? What became of Munson?”
“Oh, he and his crowd went off by themselves,” explained Blake. “They felt badly about us beating them.”
“I’ve got a surprise for you, Joe,” went on the proprietor.
“What sort?” asked the lad, eagerly; “is my father——?”
“No, not that; but Sam Reed is back here again, and he can tell you what you want to know. He came the day after you left.”
“But I did better than that!” exclaimed Joe. “I met my uncle, and I’m soon going to find my father, I hope,” and he related his meeting with the trooper.
“Good!” cried Mr. Alden. “Here comes Sam now. I told him you might be along soon,” and he turned to introduce a rather shiftless-looking cowboy who sauntered up.
“Pleased to meet you,” said Sam Reed. “I never cal’lated when I writ that there letter that I’d ever see you in flesh and blood. I’ve got your pictures, though,” and he showed those that had appeared in a magazine, giving an account of the work of Joe and Blake.