“I have the young man outside here,” replied Professor Scott. “I wondered if you two would help me question him? If we ply him with questions we may be able to suggest something that will make him remember who he is and some details of his past life.”
“We’ll be glad to help,” said Jim, heartily. “Where is he?”
“I’ll bring him in,” replied the teacher, and he left the room.
“That’s mighty hard luck,” commented Don. “I hope we can do something to help.”
A moment later the professor returned, gently leading someone with him. “Come right in here, young man,” he said, loudly and gently. “There are only friends in here, so don’t be afraid.”
“Thank you sir,” a voice replied. “Oh, if you can only do something for me!”
Professor Scott appeared in the room, leading with him a dazed-looking young man with red hair and freckled face, at the sight of whom Don and Jim sprang to their feet with a cry. The boy looked at them dully and swallowed.
“Terry Mackson!” they shouted.
“What!” cried the professor, in amazement, as he pushed the boy down into a large chair. “Do you know this boy?”
“We certainly do!” Don shot out. “This is Terry Mackson, an old chum of ours. We room with him at school.”