tell you, officer," answered the clerk. "Ah,he's coming to!"
Hiram sat up on the bench and pushed aside the drug-soaked handkerchief."Dad!" he murmured confusedly.
"I'm not your dad," said the officer. "I'm just the fellow who pulledyou out of the crowd. Where'd you get that hat?"
Hiram looked down. His own hat was on his head and had, in some manner,remained with him throughout all the excitement, but in his hand he wasclutching, like grim death, a battered black Stetson.
Turning the hat over, Hiram looked into the crown. The gilt letters, "U.H." met his eyes.
"It's dad's hat," he gurgled. "Upton Hill, that's his name! I knew I hada bean on the right number! I--I---"
A bit of white showed under the sweatband. Westerners, of a certaintype, sometimes carry important documents under the sweatband of theirhats. Hiram pulled his object out of the Stetson, examined it, and theninquired his way to the nearest telegraph office. Five minutes later hehad sent the following telegram:
"OWEN CLANCY, the Motor Wizard, Phoenix, Arizona: Hot on the trail. Yousaid you would help me find dad. Come to Los Angeles at once and getbusy. Meet me Renfrew House. HIRAM."
"This here's a great day for me," murmured Hiram, rubbing his bruises ashe turned away from the operator's window. "I reckon that'll fetchClancy, if he's well enough to come. Him and me can run out this happytrail together, with ground to spare. That red-headed wizard has gotmore sense in a minute than I have in a year, and I reckon we'll getalong. He's a good feller to tie to, in a time like this."
CHAPTER II.
CLANCY HITS THE "HAPPY TRAIL."
"How's the shoulder, Clancy?" Doctor Ferguson asked, as the young motorwizard walked into his office.
"I know it belongs to me," was the smiling reply, "every time I make amove, but I guess it's coming along all right at that, doc."
"No reason why it shouldn't. You're as tough as a piece of whalebone,and a little nick like that can't put you on the retired list. Sit downhere--I've got a few words to say to you."
The doctor indicated a chair close to his desk, and then sank back inhis own seat with the air of one who is about to say something weightyand important.
"Don't you try to scare me about anything, doc," said Clancyapprehensively, as he slid into the chair.
"Tush!" and the physician wagged his head. "You haven't got sense enoughto be scared at anything. That's the main trouble with you. It's twoweeks since you went to Wickenburg and got in front of that bullet. Wekept you in bed for a week, and now you have been on your feet foranother week. So far as the wound is concerned, Clancy, you are allright, but so far as something else is concerned, you are all wrong."Ferguson's eyes narrowed and he leveled a forefinger at his patient."What happened, up there at Wickenburg?" he demanded.
"What happened?" repeated Clancy. "Why, you just spoke of that. I got infront of a bullet."
"Stop, trying to play horse with me!" went on the doctor sourly."Something took place between you and your partner, Lafe Wynn, atWickenburg, and I want to know what it was."
Clancy stiffened.
"That's a personal matter, Doctor Ferguson," he answered, "and I don'thave to explain it to anybody."
"Well, you needn't get hot about it. There's something on your mind, andit's holding back your complete recovery. I'm asking questions andtalking from the standpoint of your physician. If I knew the nature ofthe thing that bothered you, very possibly I could take means tocounteract it."
Clancy was impressed by Ferguson's shrewdness. Yet he had no intentionof revealing the cause of his secret worry.
How could he tell Ferguson, or anybody else, what really happened atWickenburg? Only two or three people knew that Lafe Wynn had forgedClancy's name to a check and had absconded with that money, and with allthe cash assets of the firm of Clancy & Wynn. Only two or three knew howClancy had trailed Wynn to Wickenburg and had sent him back to Phoenixto take charge of the Square-deal Garage, as usual, whilehe--Clancy--was in bed in the other town for a week.
Apparently all was the same as it ever had been between the twopartners. In this instance, however, surface indications were not to betrusted.
Clancy's confidence in Wynn had been rudely shattered. The motor wizardhad spared his partner--had been generous with him, in fact, far beyondhis deserts. This was not particularly on Wynn's account, but on accountof Wynn's mother, an old lady who had come to Phoenix on the very dayWynn had absconded.
Mrs. Wynn, proud of the business success her son had made, had come tohim so that he might make her a home in her declining years. Clancy hadnot the heart to tell the old lady the exact situation, and he had goneto Wickenburg to get Lafe and make him return to Phoenix.
Wynn knew that Clancy had spared him on his mother's account. Thisknowledge caused a restraint between the two partners, all the greaterbecause Wynn's forgery, and defalcation had wiped out all the cashassets of Clancy and the firm--some fifteen thousand dollars which hadnot been recovered.
Clancy would not tell all this to any one, for fear it might reach Mrs.Wynn. And he was anxious that Wynn should have another chance, withoutletting the one error of an otherwise blameless life weigh in the scalesagainst him.
"I'll get along, doctor," observed Clancy. "I'll bet all the fretting Ido won't land on me so hard you can notice it."
"Confound it," burst out the doctor, "I do notice it! You've got to getaway from things for a while. Take the Happy Trail, Clancy, and run itout. I reckon you can afford it--after the way you held up thatstreet-car company."
"Happy Trail?" echoed Clancy; "what's that?"
"It's the carefree road of pure and unadulterated joy," explainedFerguson solemnly. "It takes you out of yourself, gives you new scenesand experiences, and finally you wake up feeling better than you everfelt before in your life."
"Lead me to it!" said Clancy.
"I wish I could," was the answer, "but I can't. A Happy Trail for youmight be a mighty miserable one for me, and vice versa. You'll have tofind it for yourself, Clancy, but when you do find it, hit it hard!"
"That's a fine prescription--I don't think," laughed Clancy, getting upto leave. "You tell me what I must do, but don't tell me how I'm to doit."
"I'm as frank with you as you are with me," growled Ferguson. "Good-by!"
Clancy got back to the Square-deal Garage to find the whole force ofemployees moving the repair shop over to the garage known as the RedStar.
In order to keep Rockwell, of the Red Star, from driving the Square-dealplace out of business, Clancy had been forced to buy the building andlot that housed the establishment belonging to him and Wynn. He hadconsummated this deal for ten thousand dollars, paying three thousanddollars down and getting time on the balance at seven per cent. And themortgage had come due just before Wynn had absconded with all the cashresources. A stroke of luck alone had saved Clancy.
The street-car company had suddenly developed a need for the property hehad bought. Judge Pembroke, a friend of Clancy's, did the negotiating,with the result that the premises sold for twenty thousand dollars.
The judge, knowing that Clancy & Wynn would have to move and must havesome place to go, had secured an option on the Red-star establishmentfor four thousand dollars. So Clancy had financed the tottering affairsof Clancy & Wynn, had bought Rockwell's old place, and the transfer wasin progress.
Lafe Wynn was overseeing the removal. When Clancy entered the garage,Lafe turned abruptly on his heel and walked into the office. Clancyfollowed him.
"What's the matter with you, Lafe?" inquired Clancy. "Why do you takepains to avoid me, all the time? We can't get along like that--andremain partners."
A look of suffering filled Wynn's face.
"Owen," said he, with an effort, "every time I look at you I think ofwhat I am--a thief and a forger, only saved from the penitentiary byyour generosity. It isn't a pleasant thought for a man who wants to beindependent. If I could undo the wrong I did you--if I could---"
"You can--some time," said
Clancy. "After you are able, you can pay meback my just proportion of that fifteen thousand."
"After I am able!" murmured Lafe sarcastically. "That will be a matterof years, Owen. I can't feel like this for years without going crazy. IfI could find my rascally brother, Gerald, I--I might induce him to giveback the money."
"Never," returned the motor wizard shortly. "Your brother Gerald hasprobably got rid of the money by this time. There were