"Yes, yes! I know. You're Dick Box. At least, that's what Jimmy calls you. But—yes, it must be—yet I had better make certain before I tell him," and these last words Mr. Crosscrab murmured in a low voice.
Dick did not know what to make of the man's manner.
"What is it?" he asked. "What is the matter?"
"I wish I had known this before I went to Vermont," went on Mr. Crosscrab, speaking to himself. "Yet it must be the same one. But how could he be here when he's supposed to be in Chicago?"
Dick began to be a little alarmed. He thought perhaps Mr. Crosscrab might be a little insane. He wished Jimmy would come in.
"Can't you remember your other name?" asked the visitor. "Try—try very hard."
"I have tried—every day, but it's no use."
"Do you know where you came from?"
"No. All I can remember is a large house with lots of ground about it, and a man and woman who were kind to me. Oh, Mr. Crosscrab, do you know anything about me? Do you know who I am? Tell me, please, if you do!"
"I am not sure, yet you look exactly the same. Tell me, can you remember anything about the house where you used to live?"