interesting experiences. Now what do these mean to you?--Thunder
Lake--Abner Darby--Edith Darby--MacLean's College----"

Ben relaxed, focusing his attention on the names. For the instant the
scene about him, the anxious, interested faces, faded from his
consciousness. Thunder Lake! Somewhere, some time, Thunder Lake had had
the most intimate associations with his life. The name stirred him and
moved him; dim voices whispered in his ears about it, but he couldn't
quite catch what they said. He groped and reached in vain.

There was no doubt but that an under-consciousness had full knowledge
of the name and all that it meant. But it simply could not reach that
knowledge up into his conscious mind.

Abner Darby! It was curious what a flood of tenderness swept through him
as, whispering, he repeated the name. Some one old and white-haired had
been named Abner Darby: some one whom he had once worshipped with the
fervor of boyhood, but who had leaned on his own, strong shoulders in
latter years. Since his own name was Darby, Abner Darby was, in all
probability, his father; but his reasoning intelligence, rather than his
memory, told him so.

The name of Edith Darby conjured up in his mind a childhood playmate,--a
girl with towzled yellow curls and chubby, confiding little hands....
But these dim memory-pictures went no further: there were no later
visions of Edith as a young woman, blossoming with virgin beauty. They
stopped short, and he had a deep, compelling sense of grief. The child,
unquestionably a sister, had likely died in early years. The third name
of the three, MacLean's College, called up no memories whatever.