“Easy, pardner,” soothed Duke. “You’ll remember who yuh are. Set down and take it easy.”
“Who am I?” whined the Saint, paying no heed to Duke’s advice. “Don’t you know whom I am?”
“Le Saint,” answered Duke.
“Yes, that’s my name—Le Saint.”
He stared at Duke for several moments, shaking his head as though in pain or perplexity. Then he said, “I don’t know you, but your face is familiar. Who are you?”
“Duke Steele.”
“Yes,” nodded the Saint, “that is the name, but I don’t remember you very well. You heard what happened to me, didn’t you?” The question was child-like in its simplicity, and the Saint smiled wistfully as he spoke.
“What happened to you?” queried Duke.
“I thought everyone knew. The factor at Norway Lake told everyone—I—thought.”
“Where’s Norway Lake?”