"They are to be found!" cried the elderly Cuban.
"Where?" asked Dick, eagerly.
"Here," replied Senor Alantrez, with a dramatic gesture. "Allow me to make known to you the identity of myself and my son. I am Senor Raphael Valdez, and he is Miguel, and we are relatives of your mother, if you are the son of Mortimer Hamilton."
"I certainly am," responded the youth, in puzzled tones, "but I thought your name was Alantrez."
"I changed my name when I lost my money, as I was too proud to let my friends know of my misfortune," went on Senor Valdez, as we must now call him, "but we really are the last of the Valdez family, as I shall soon convince you. We are your mother's relatives, though I never suspected it, for the name Hamilton is not uncommon. Please to be seated, senor, and I will relate our story to you," and the Cuban politely waved Dick to a seat on the sand.
"And to think that I have been chumming with you all this while, and never knew you were my, relatives!" cried the young millionaire. "This beats a story in a book. Go ahead, senor, tell me all you can, and then we'll hurry back to camp with the good news."
