Between you and me," he sidled a little closer to Trent, "I think I must have got into a bit of a scrape of some sort--I feel as though there was a blank somewhere...." Again he became unintelligible.

Trent was silent for several minutes.
He could not understand that strained, anxious look which crept into Monty's face every time he faced the town.

Then he made his last effort.
"Monty, do you remember this ?" Zealously guarded, yet a little worn at the edges and faded, he drew the picture from its case and held it before the old man's blinking eyes.
There was a moment of suspense, then a sharp, breathless cry which ended in a wail.
"Take it away," Monty moaned.

"I lost it long ago.

I don't want to see it! I don't want to think." "I have come," Trent said, with an unaccustomed gentleness in his tone, "to make you think.