"I'm Hank," the man answered.
"No," said DeGolyer, with a sob, "you are Henry, and I am Hank."
"No, Henry's dead—I'm Hank." He dropped on his knees again and began to scrub the floor.
Just then the proprietor came in. "What's the trouble?" he asked. "Why, mister, don't pay any attention to that poor fellow. There's no harm in him."
"No one knows that better than I," DeGolyer answered. "How long has he been here—where did he come from?"
"He came off a ship. The cap'n said that he couldn't use him and asked me to take him. Been here about five months, I think. They say he used to amount to something, but he's gone up here," he added, tapping his head.
"What's the captain's name—where can I find him?"
"His ship's in now, I think. Go down to the levee and ask for the cap'n of the Creole."
"I will, but first let me tell you that I have come for this man. I know his father. I'll get back as soon as I can."
"All right. And if you can do anything for this poor fellow you are welcome to, for he's not much use round here."