that did not commit him to anything.
“Hello yourself,” said the other. “I don’t remember seeing you around here before.” His eyes went to the girl, which of course was natural. “You don’t happen to know who I am, do you? I was afraid you wouldn’t. No one around here seems to.”
“You—you can’t remember who you are, at all?” Myrtle’s eyes and her voice were soft with sympathy.
“I could be a Chinaman for all I know. So far as I can tell, I’m nameless.” He laughed shortly.
“I think it must be perfectly thrilling, not to know your name or anything about your past,” said Myrtle, in a tone that jarred on Andy’s nerves.
“The present is thrilling enough for me,” said the stranger. “I’m not worrying right now about my past.” And he laughed in a diffident way as he climbed up beside her.
Andy’s black eyebrows came together. He looked at Myrtle and saw her edging along to make room for the fellow. She seemed to have forgotten all about last evening in the bay window at the Rogers ranch. And although he stubbornly held to his place beside her, not once did he turn his face toward her. So far as he was concerned, that particular rail was occupied only by Andy Green.
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