For the first time it struck him as significant that in the two years, almost, of their constant companionship, Cash's reminiscences had stopped abruptly about fifteen years back.

Beyond that he never went, save now and then when he jumped a space, to the time when he was a boy.

Of what dark years lay between, Bud had never been permitted a glimpse.
"Some kid--that kid," Bud observed involuntarily, for the first time in over three weeks speaking when he was not compelled to speak to Cash.

"I wish I knew where he came from.

He wants his mother." Cash stirred a little, like a sleeper only half awakened.