"Have you learned, Bob, who the man with the scar is?"
"What sort of a scar?" demanded the ranchman, before the boy could answer. And as Bob described it, he exclaimed:
"That's Knuckles, your father's old foreman!"
"Good. I'll find him and take him back with me," returned Bob; "that is, if things come out right."
"Don't worry about that," smiled Mr. Nichols knowingly. And when they arrived in New York and met Mr. Perkins, these words were explained, for Bob's patrons had set detectives at work and had learned all there was to be learned about Len Dardus, even to the banks in which he kept his money, and how much he had.
After holding a consultation and marshaling their evidence, it was decided to call in two members of the city detective force, and upon their arrival, the party set out for the grocery store where Bob had passed so many unhappy days.
No one was about when the six men entered, and, leaving Bob alone, the others withdrew to the corners of the store where the shadows practically hid them.
The proprietor had heard the footsteps, however, and shuffled from his private office.
No farther did he get than the threshold before he saw and recognized Bob.
