“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 writ³ 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.

 

As might have been expected, Sam knew nothing of Joe’s father. The best the cowboy had hoped to do was to put the boy on the track of Mr. William Duncan, and, considering that Joe’s uncle, as I shall call him—though he was really only a half-uncle—had enlisted⁴ in the army, Mr. Reed would probably have had hard work to carry out his plans.

 

“Well, I’m glad you met your relative, anyhow,” said Sam to Joe; “and I wish you luck in looking for your father. So he’s somewhere on the southern California coast?”

 

“Yes, in one of the lighthouses,” explained Joe. “My uncle didn’t know exactly where, but I can easily find out from the government office when I get on the coast.”

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