Billy felt himself somewhat at a loss to deal with this well-formed impression, so he contented himself with the remark, "But you haven't told me what your name is yet?"
She rose upon her knees in the bed and leaned over toward him. "My really name is Lotchen."
"Lotchen what?"
"That's all—just Lotchen."
"Where's your mother, Lotchen?"
"I don't know; do you?"
"There's something queer about this business," said Billy to himself. "And if that Wrangler man don't make it plain he'll find hisself in trouble. What is your father's name, Lotchen?" he inquired aloud.
"Who's that?"
"Your father. Haven't you a father?"
"I don't know. The black man says he can turn me into a toothpick if he wants to."