as useless. Hill was completely carried away
with the letter, for it steered him along the line of least resistance
right into the haven of his happiest desires. He believed in that letter
because he wanted to believe in it, and for no other earthly reason.

"Then," said the motor wizard quietly, "you think you'll go to San Diego
and not to Catalina Island?"

"What's the use o' wastin' time on Catalina when that letter tells us
right where to go?" demanded Hill. "You're goin' with me, ain't you?"

"Not if you're going right away, Hiram. I just reached Los Angeles after
a long ride from Phoenix, and I'm not going to hit the iron trail again
before I have a chance to get the cinders out of my eyes and the dust
off my face. If you're going to San Diego this afternoon, or to-night,
you'll go alone."

"You don't take any stock in this letter at all, huh?"

"No."

"Who do you think wrote it if it wasn't my lost dad?"

"I don't know who wrote it,"

"Well," grumbled Hiram, "I won't start for San Diego afore to-morrow. I
want you to be along, and I'm waitin' over so'st to have you. S'pose we
go and eat? Registered yet?"

"I'll register now," said Clancy, "and then we'll sit in at the chuck
table and have dinner."

He went over to the desk alone, put down his name, and then wrote out a
telegram. He handed it to a boy along with some money, and asked that
the message be put on the wires as soon as possible. After that he went
to his room, got the dust and cinders off his face and out of his hair,
joined Hill, and the two went into the dining room together.

Clancy was determined to make the most of his "Happy Trail," and
directly after dinner proposed that he and Hill should spend the
afternoon at one of the beaches. Hill, who was all wrapped up in San
Diego, now that he had received that supposed letter from his father,
consented reluctantly. The two boarded an electric car and went to
Venice.

There was a big crowd at this particular beach. Hill, in spite of the
fact that he professed to believe his father was in San Diego, was
scanning every face he passed for the beetling brow, retreating chin,
Roman nose, and squint eye. He acted so wild and unreasonable that
Clancy was tempted to believe he had gone daffy on the subject of his
lost father.

He would run up to a man with a prominent nose, grab him by the
shoulders, and study his face in a search for the other specifications.
Once he was knocked down, and anot