The stranger was evidently puzzled by the question. He looked vacantly around the ceiling until his gaze rested upon a glass chandelier above him; but, finding no assistance there, his glance wandered to an oriel, in which there was a caged mocking-bird.
"Jess Baker—that's all," he answered at last, in his thin voice and slow, earnest manner.
"What! don't know your other name?"
"No, I reckin not," said Baker, after a thoughtful pause. "I reckin it's jess Baker—that's all."
"Didn't they ever call you anything else?"
"Me?"
"Yes, you."
Again Baker looked helplessly around until he found the chandelier, and then his eyes sought the oriel. Then he started as if he had received a blow, and immediately reached down and felt his ankles.
"Yes, sir," he answered.
"What was it?"