Profound indeed was the impression made on Dave by the sight of the childish things in the trunk Mr. Carson had received from Denver. Sadness, too, was mingled with his feelings. Somehow he felt as though the last hope had gone from him, for he did not see how he could find any clew to his identity in the corks, strung into such a queer jacket.

Dave tried to look cheerful as he came out to join Mr. Bellmore for the ride across the prairies to the place where they were going to measure the flow of water. He did not want his companion to suspect anything.

"Feel like taking it on the gallop?" asked the engineer.

"Yes, I guess Crow can stand it if your animal can," Dave said.

"Oh, I'll bank on Kurd!"

Together they were off at a fast pace that fairly ate up the distance, and soon they were half-way to the place where a small stream had given Mr. Bellmore hopes that he could add it to his water conservation scheme.

"I wonder how it would be to take a trip over to the Molick dam, and see what they're doing?" suggested the water man. "It's just as well to keep tab on those fellows."

"Go ahead, I'm with you," said Dave.

They changed their course slightly. The whole day, or, rather, the best part of it was ahead of them, for they had made an early start. Dave had not much to do at the ranch since the big cattle shipment, though Mr. Carson was getting ready to increase his stock as soon as the question of providing water for them was settled.

"Looks as if something was going on," commented Mr. Bellmore, as they approached the place where the Molick dam had been rebuilt.

"Yes, there's a crowd there, anyhow," agreed Dave. "And some of them are on our land, too!" he exclaimed, excitedly.

"Now take it easy," advised his friend. "This matter must take a legal course, since we have started it that way. Keep cool."

"Oh, I will," the young cowboy promised, as he spurred on, followed by the engineer.

They found Molick and several of his men making a sort of supplementary dam, the water having backed up more than they had calculated on, so that some of it was now flowing in the old bed of the stream over Mr. Carson's property. It was to prevent this that another dam was being made.

"He wants to get every drop!" said Dave, bitterly.

"Yes," assented the engineer. "He isn't satisfied with a fair share."

Some of the workmen who knew Dave seemed a bit embarrassed as he caught them on the Carson land, for it was necessary for them to go there to complete the dam. The young cowboy, however, said nothing, preferring to leave it to Mr. Bellmore. The latter looked significantly at Molick, and remarked:

"Seems to me you're overstepping a bit; aren't you?"

"I don't know that I am," was the surly answer.

"Why, you're on Bar U land—or some of your men are."

"I know it."

"What gives you the right?"

"The law. It says I can go where I have to, to recover my property. I guess that's right enough."

"Where is any of your property on Mr. Carson's land?"

Molick pointed to the trickling water.

"That's mine," he said. "It's escaping from my pond over the dam. I'm making the dam bigger, and if I have to go on Bar U land to do it, to save my property, the law gives me a right. I know what I'm talking about, for I've looked it up."

As this was a point on which the engineer was not certain of the rights of Mr. Carson, he thought it better to say nothing. He observed, however, that there was more water than even he had calculated on, and that though the dam were raised it would overflow again, thus necessitating further trespassing on the Bar U property.

"And if the flow keeps on increasing," the engineer reasoned, "it will give us a water supply in spite of all Molick can do. Guess I'll let matters take their course for a while."

He said as much to Dave in a low voice, and the two rode away. They had seen all they needed to.

"Dad can pasture here again soon," said the young cowboy.

"Yes," assented the engineer, "I guess we don't need to worry much. There'll be more water than Molick can impound unless he raises a big concrete dam, and before he can do that we'll have legally established our own rights, I think."

They resumed their way to the valley to measure the water there, and for some time were kept busy, Dave helping his friend make the calculations.

"Well, there isn't as much as I thought there'd be," was the comment of the engineer, "but every little helps. We'll make a different section of this a year from now. If it wasn't for Molick standing out against the irrigation scheme we'd have the whole of Rolling River Valley in it."

"Is there any way of forcing him?" asked Dave.

"There may be, after he sees what he's missing."

Together they rode home in the early evening. Now that the work of the day was over Dave's mind went back to the scene of the morning, when he had handled his baby garments and the cork jacket. His manner must have been strange and distracted, for Mr. Bellmore said:

"What's the matter, Dave? You act as though you had lost your last friend."

"Well, I have, in a way," was the unexpected answer.

"You have! What do you mean? Seems to me, if I were you, with the kind of a father you have, and a dandy ranch like this I'd be the happiest fellow on—"

"I haven't any father!" burst out Dave. "And that's the trouble. Oh, it's just as Len Molick said—I'm a nameless nobody!" and his voice choked and broke.

Mr. Bellmore rode his horse over beside Crow. He put his arm around the lad, who hung his head.

"Look here, old man!" said the engineer. "I don't want to intrude, but if it will do you any good, tell me all about it!"

"I will!" exclaimed Dave, taking a sudden resolve. "I wasn't going to tell you," he went on, after a pause, "for, though some of the fellows at the ranch know it, and though some over at Centre O do, also, still I wasn't going to tell you. I was so happy before I knew it."

Then, slowly, and haltingly, he told how Len Molick had fired the taunt at him and how, upon making inquiries of Mr. Carson, the latter had confirmed the rumor, saying that Dave was not his son, though he loved him as such.

"And where did you say he found you?" asked the engineer. There was a curious light in his eyes, and an eager expectancy in his manner.

"It was during a flood somewhere in Missouri. I've forgotten the exact name of the place. He can tell you. He picked me up on some wreckage, and looked after me. That was a long while ago—or at least it seems so," Dave remarked with a smile.

"It couldn't have been so very long ago. You're not more than twenty; are you, Dave?"

"Nineteen, I think. Of course I don't know my exact age."

"No, I suppose not. Then I'm not so much older than you. I'm twenty-seven.
But yours is a strange story. Dave, we are brothers in misfortune."

"Brothers in misfortune! What do you mean?" cried the young cowboy.

"I mean, that I haven't any near relatives either. And while I do know who I am, and who my parents were, still that isn't much satisfaction. I have lost them."

"Lost them?" Dave echoed.

"Yes, and in a flood, such as nearly claimed your life. I must find out just what town you came from. It may be that our folks lived in the same place. It would be a strange coincidence, but it might be that it is so. I lost all my folks, including a baby brother in a Western flood. I don't know many of the particulars, for I was with relatives in Ohio at the time, so I escaped.

"I am anxious to hear Mr. Carson's story. It interests me mightily. To think that we have gone through much the same sort of suffering. But I should have thought so small a baby as you must have been at the time would have been drowned."

"I would have been if it hadn't been for one thing," returned our hero, with an odd little smile.

"One thing? What was that?"

"I doubt if you can guess."

"Maybe you were bound fast to the wreckage, or it didn't float into deep water."

"I don't know about being bound fast, but I do know the wreckage floated around, or rather, down stream. But that wasn't what I referred to."

"What was it?"

"Can't you guess?"

"I don't think so."

"I had on a cork life-preserver," said Dave. "I was looking at it this morning when you called to me."

"A cork life-preserver?" excitedly repeated Mr. Bellmore. "Was it—was it any particular kind, Dave?"

"Why, yes, it was. But why do you look at me so strangely?"

"Never mind that now! Tell me about that life-preserver. How was it made?"

"From bottle corks strung together and made into a belt. I had it around me when dad—I mean Mr. Carson—picked me up. I—I thought the preserver might be a clew but it isn't, for—"

"A clew! Of course it is!" fairly shouted the engineer. "Hurrah, Dave it is a clew. Put her there, old man! Shake! I said a while ago that we were brothers in misfortune! We're more than that.

"We're real brothers, Dave Carson—no, not Dave Carson any longer! Dave
Bellmore! We're brothers, I tell you! brothers!"