mall sum, they had a fine meal.
Starting out again, they turned an intervening point of land about three
o'clock, and then came in view of a lighthouse, located on a pile of
rocks, not far from the high-water mark.

"That's the place," said Blake, in a low voice.

"Yes," agreed Joe. "It looks comfortable and homelike, too."

Back of the lighthouse was a small garden, and also a flower bed, and a
man could be seen working there. His back was toward the boys.

"I--I wonder if that's him--my father?" said Joe, softly. "He seems to
be very old," for they had a glimpse of a long white beard, and the man
seemed to be bent with the weight of many years.

"Go up and ask," said Blake. "I'll wait here."

"No, I want you to come with me," insisted his chum. "You were with me
when I first heard the good news, and now I want you along to hear the
conclusion of it. Come on, Blake."

"No, I'd rather not," and nothing Joe could say would induce his chum to
accompany him.

Their talk had been carried on in low voices, and the aged man, working
in the garden, had apparently not heard them. He continued to hoe away
among the rows.

"Well, here goes!" exclaimed Joe, with a sigh. Now that he felt he was
at the end of his quest his sensations were almost as sorrowful as
joyful. In fact, he did not know exactly how he did feel.

Walking up toward the old man, he paused, and then coughed slightly to
attract his attention. The lighthouse keeper turned, surveyed the boy
and in a pleasant voice asked:

"Well?"

"If--if you--are you my father?" asked Joe, in trembling voice, holding
out his hands.

"Your father!" cried the man in unmistakable surprise. "What is your
name?"

"Joe Duncan."

"Joe Duncan? Did Duncan have a son?"

"Yes, and I'm the boy!" went on Joe, eagerly, yet a doubt began creeping
into his heart. "But are you Mr. Nathaniel Duncan?"

The old man paused a moment, and then said gently:

"No, my boy. I'm Harry Stanton, keeper of Rockypoint light."

"But my father!" exclaimed Joe. "I understood he was here! Where is he?"

"He was here," went on Mr. Stanton, as he leaned on his hoe and looked
compassionately at the lad standing before him; "but he went away more
than a week ago."

"Gone away!" echoed Joe. "Did he--did he get my letter?"

"I don't know whether it was your letter or not," said the keeper. "One
came for him the day after he left. It's here yet. It was from
Flagstaff, Arizona, I believe."

"Th