didn't know whether you'd be able to answer that there telegram ofmine in person, and if you was able, I didn't know whether you would."
"Look here, Hiram," said Clancy, "didn't I tell you I'd help you findyour father if you'd keep mum about what Lafe Wynn did?"
"Uh-huh."
"Well, I always try to pay my debts."
"Got any trace o' Gerald Wynn, Burton, and Katz yet?"
"No."
"Then that fifteen thou' is gone for good?"
"I'm afraid so. But let's not talk about that. You say you're hot on thetrail of your father. Tell me about it."
Hiram started with the Chinese procession at Sixth and Main Streets.Very earnestly he told how he had disrupted the dragon, and he describedother events that happened down to the point where he found himself withthe extra Stetson in his hand.
"That hat," declared Hiram, "sure belonged to dad. I got it away fromhim somehow, and I hung to it all the while my wits was woolgatherin'and I was bein' toted to a drug store. Then I--- Say, what you laughin'at?"
Clancy had been enjoying Hill's recital to the limit it would be hard tomix six dozens of eggs, a Chinese dragon, and a runaway monkey into asmall-sized riot and not get a little fun out of it. The sober,matter-of-fact way in which Hiram narrated the details added to thehumor of the story.
"Never mind what I'm laughing at, Hiram," sputtered Clancy, wiping hiseyes. "You say you found something under the sweatband of that Stetson.What was it?"
"A card. Here it is."
Hill thrust a hand into one of his pockets and drew forth an oblongsquare of pasteboard. This he handed to his companion.
"Sr. J. Lopez," was the name on the card, followed by the address:"Avalon, Catalina Island, California." Then in the lower left-handcorner, were the words: "Representing the Fortunatus Syndicate, of TiaJuana, Mexico."
"What do you make out of this, Hiram?" the motor wizard asked.
"What do you make out of it?" countered Hill.
"If you are sure the Stetson belonged to the man in the automobile--tothe man whom you thought was your father---"
"I'll take my solemn Alfred on that!"
"Well, if this is the man's business card, it proves that the man is J.Lopez--and he can't be your father."
"That's not his business card, Clancy."
"How do you know?"
"There was two gilt letters pasted in the crown o' that Stetson, andthem letters was 'U. H.' Sabe? My dad's name is Upton Hill."
Clancy was suitably impressed.
"Well, who's this J. Lopez and the Fortunatus Syndicate?" he inquired."Those are two things we ought to find out."
"I'm wise to the Fortunatus Syndicate, all right," said Hill. "Youremember I was down in Tia Juana, that time I got hornswoggled out o'five hundred dollars by Gerald Wynn. Well, I heard about this FortunatusSyndicate while I was in the place. Some Americanos are planning agambling resort, just across the boundary line, and they call theircompany the Fortunatus Syndicate."
"And your dad's mixed up with it, Hiram? That doesn't speak very wellfor him."
"Maybe he's mixed up in it, and maybe he isn't. I wouldn't go andconnect him with any gamblin' syndicate just because I found that therecard under the sweatband of his Stetson. What do you allow is the thingfor us to do? My hand's on the table, Clancy, and I want you to help meplay it."
"Strikes me," said Clancy reflectively, "that the best move is to goacross to Catalina Island and talk with this man Lopez."
"I allowed we'd better, advertise in the papers," remarked Hill. "Wecould use the Lost and Found Column."
"How?"
"Well, we could say, 'Lost--One man about fifty with a squinch eye, aRoman nose, and a mole on the back of his neck. Answers to name of UptonHill. Communicate with Hiram Hill, Renfrew House, City.' And then wecould put in another, like this: 'Found--One black Stetson, initials "U.H." in crown. Picked up corner Sixth and Maine time the chink dragon wentto pieces. Communicate with Hiram Hill, and so forth.' I don't see anyuse in huntin' up this Lopez."
"Your father must have, business, with Lopez, Hiram, or he wouldn't behaving the Mexican's card. Would he?"
"I reckon not."
"It's likely your father is over at Catalina now. If we go to theisland and hunt up Lopez, there's a chance of our locating UptonHill--or the man you think is Upton Hill."
"Maybe you're right," said Hill.
"I don't think advertising would do any good. Your supposed fatherdidn't seem very enthusiastic about meeting you, the time you landed onhim in the automobile."
Hill's cross eyes blinked.
"It was the way I come at him," said he. "I been thinkin' since. Therewas a hull lot of excitement, and I'll gamble dad didn't have time toget the run o' what was happenin'. He didn't have no good chance to beaffectionate."
"I suppose not," returned Clancy, trying hard to keep a straight face."The trail seems to be a pretty warm one, all right, and--- Where areyou going?"
Clancy broke off his remarks to grab hold of Hiram and restrain him. Thetow-headed chap had suddenly leaped out of his chair like a restive wildcat.
"Ain't that dad over yonder?" he asked. "I see a feller that seems to bebuilt on the same lines of the photograft, but--n-n-no," he finishedmusingly, "that feller's a Mexican."
"Letter for you, Mr. Hill," said a bell boy, coming across the lobbyfrom the clerk's desk.
Hill took the letter wonderingly, stared at it, tore it open, and thensank into a chair while he read the communication. Presently he began tobreathe hard, and to gurgle in his throat.
"I knew the old man didn't have a marble heart," he muttered joyfully."I reckoned he'd come around, if I'd only give him time enough. Thetrail's a short one, Clancy, and it leads to San Diego instead of toCatalina. There," and he thrust the letter into the motor wizard's hand,"read that."
CHAPTER V.
THE MOTOR WIZARD'S JUDGMENT.
"This has a fishy look to me, Hiram," said Clancy, after reading theletter. "Upton Hill, who claims to have written it, says he got youraddress from the policeman who pulled you out of the melee and helpedyou to the drug store. Mighty queer he couldn't spend time to call onyou, after getting your address, instead of putting you to all theexpense of going to San Diego to find him."
"Don't be a wet blanket, blame it!" begged Hill. "Only dad I got in theworld, and here you go to throwin' cold water on his motives."
"Did you give your address to the policeman?"
"Give it up. I was plump batty, just after I got away from that mob, andI don't know what I did. Reckon I must have given up the information, ordad couldn't have got it and sent me that letter."
The motor wizard was conscious of a deep distrust regarding thatcommunication upon which Hill was setting such store. Instinctively hehad become suspicious, and the more he considered the letter's contents,the more suspicious he became.
"Do you recognize your father's handwriting, Hiram?" asked Clancy.
"Well, hardly," was the grinning response. "Dad got lost in the shufflealmost before I'd cut my teeth. I'm not familiar with his handwritin'.Did you read what he says about bein' well off? Gosh! Say, I'm li'ble tocome into some money! I reckon this is one time my cup's right side upwhen it rains good luck."
"Haven't you got a sample of your father's penmanship anywhere, Hiram?"
"Not that I know anythin' about. You see, all the letters he'd written Ileft back home, and---" Hill paused abruptly. "Gee," he went on,reaching into the breast pocket of his coat, "I allow I have got a scrapo' dad's writin'. It's on the back o' that photograft."
He drew the photograph into sight, turned it over, and pushed it underClancy's eyes.
"There!" and he pointed with his finger. "That's a sample o' dad'sfist."
Upton Hill, age thirty-six. This was all the writing on the back of thephotograph. It was enough, however. Clancy compared the name signed tothe letter with that on the photograph. It could be seen at a glancethat the same hand had not written the two signatures--they were ut
terlydifferent.
"Just as I imagined," observed Clancy. "Hiram, either your father didnot write what is on the back of the photograph, or else that letter isa forgery. The same hand