Thayer moved closer to the bed and bending, stared at him.
"Why, the accident.

I'm Thayer, you know--Thayer, your manager at the Empire Lake mill." "Have I a manager ?" The thin man drew back at this and stood for a moment staring down at Houston.

Then he laughed and rubbed his gnarled hands.
"I hope you've got a manager.

You--you haven't fired me, have you ?" Barry turned his head wearily, as though the conversation were ended.
"I don't know what you are talking about." "You--don't--say, you're Barry Houston, aren't you ?" "I?
Am I ?" "Well, then, who are you ?" The man on the bed smiled.
"I'd like to have you tell me.

I don't know myself." "Don't you know your name ?" "Have I one ?" Thayer, wondering now, drew a hand across his forehead and stood for a moment in disconcerted silence.