“Bobby Vernon.”
“I like that name very much. Mine is John Compton.”
“And I like that name very much. Say, come in and sit with me.”
“One moment. Where are you from?”
“Cincinnati.”
Compton, starting slightly, looked at the boy’s features searchingly.
“Say, Bobby, what was your mother’s maiden name—her name before she was married, you know?”
“Barbara Carberry.”
Compton buried his face in his hands. When he raised his head presently, he discovered Bobby weeping. Stepping into the car, Compton took Bobby in his arms and, gazing once more upon the child’s face, stooped over and kissed him.
“I knew your mother once,” he said quietly.