"Gollee!" he breathed excitedly. "Who's the creep?"
"Never mind," Nan said, quickly recovering her composure. "He's had an accident. Just get some money from your father and go to the drugstore for more bandages. I'll need them."
I gave him a buck and he ran out the kitchen way, slamming the back door so hard, the whole house shook.
The old man's eyes flickered open. He looked at me first, then at Nan. "Well," he said in a peculiar muffled tone that suggested he was speaking through an obstruction like a fencing mask, "isn't this cozy!"
I immediately threw a lot of questions at him. His name, he said, was Ashe—just plain Ashe. He couldn't remember any other name. He couldn't remember why he'd been beaten up, nor what had led up to it. He was very confused. He thought maybe it would all come back to him later. However, he did remember my rescuing him and he appreciated that very much. Hearing him say so gave me a nice, tingling glow. I invited him to stay for dinner and he accepted.
NAN objected. "There's only salad," she wailed. "It was too hot to cook."
"Salad's fine," I told her.
"Oh, Ted, please!"
"Listen here," I said coldly, "I've invited Ashe to stay and he's accepted. Why all the fuss?"