“Yes.”
“Oh, why—my name is Brown—er—John Brown. Not the gentleman who was hanged, of course; distant relative, that's all.”
“Hum! John Brown, hey? What steamer did you fall off of?”
“Why—why—I can't seem to remember. That's odd, isn't it?”
“Yes, I should say 'twas. Where was she bound?”
“Bound? Oh, you mean where was she going?”
“Sartin.”
“I think—I think she was going to—to. . . . Humph! how strange this is!”
“What?”
“Why, that I should forget all these things.”