"Surely you are Leon——"
"I am Leon, but not Grath. You are Dr. Medjora?"
"Ah! Then you remember me?"
"Certainly! I remember all men, friend or foe. You have been more the former than the latter. Therefore the remembrance is quite distinct."
Hearing the sound of his master's voice, untinged by anger, the collie evidently decided that the newcomer was no enemy, and strolling off a short distance, turned thrice, and lay down, resting his nose between his two forepaws, and eying the twain, awaited developments.
"I am glad that you have pleasant recollections of our brief acquaintance. But now, will you explain what you mean by saying that you are not Leon Grath. I thought that Grath was your name?"
"So did I, Doctor, but I have learned that I was mistaken. I was with
Margaret Grath when she died, and she told me——" He paused.
"She told you what?" asked Dr. Medjora, with apparent eagerness.
"That Grath is not my name."
"What then is it? Did she tell you that?"