"There! You see?" said Amy. "His memory is still weak, Clint. Come away from the fence, Dreer."
"I won't! Let me alone! You've struck me twice, Byrd. That--that ought to be enough." He ended with a sniffle.
"Sorry," said Amy, "but I've got to arouse that memory of yours. If you won't come away from there, why--"
"Hello, hello!" said a voice. "What's the trouble, fellows?"
The three boys started. A few yards away, leaning on his cane, stood a tall man of twenty-three or four years, a mildly surprised expression on his good-looking face.
CHAPTER XVII
A STRANGER INTERRUPTS
He wore a grey flannel suit, a cap to match, and rubber-soled tan shoes. It was doubtless the latter which accounted for his unsuspected appearance on the scene. His brown eyes travelled from one to another of the little group inquiringly.
"I hope I don't intrude," he observed politely.