simply a yellow cap with two stuffed red appendages on top. The man had his face smeared with yellow clay.
"We'll not harm you in the least," said Giant, and now, attracted by something in the strange man's appearance, he went several steps closer.
When the small youth of the club spoke the man turned to him. A moment later he started and throw up his hands in surprise.
"Who are you, boy? Speak quickly!" he demanded.
"I am Will Caslette."
"Ha! Where do you come from?"
"I come from Fairview, on the Rocky River."
"And your—your mother?" The man in yellow was now greatly agitated.
"My mother is a widow." Giant had now come closer still and was looking the man over carefully. "What is your name?"
"My name? Ha ha! I have no name. I am a wanderer."
"But you had a name once—what was it?"
"My name—I cannot remember. Yes, I had one once—when I was in France—fair France—the belle of all countries! But the name is gone—gone like the great history I was writing. Yes, and it will never come back, never!" And
