"I can hardly say that I remember much about them," he responded at
last. "I think they'll come plainer, though, the more I think about
them. I just get the barest, vague ideas."

"They'll strengthen in time, I'm sure," Forest told him. "Put them out
of your mind, for now. Let it be blank." The alienist again leaned
toward him, his eyes searching. There ensued an instant's pause,
possessing a certain quality of suspense. Then Forest spoke quickly,
sharply. "_Wolf_ Darby!"

In response a curious tremor passed over Ben's frame, giving in some
degree the effect of a violent start. "_Wolf_ Darby," he repeated
hesitantly. "Why do you call me that?"

"The very fact that you know the name refers to you, not some one else,
shows that that blunted memory of yours has begun to function in some
degree. Now think. What do you know about 'Wolf' Darby?"

Ben tried in vain to find an answer. A whole world of meaning lingered
just beyond the reach of his groping mind; but always it eluded him. It
was true, however, that the name gave him a certain sense of pleasure
and pride, as if it had been used in compliment to some of his own
traits. Far away and long ago, men had called _him_ "Wolf" Darby: he
felt that perhaps the name had carried far, through many sparsely
settled districts. But what had been the occasion for it he did not
know.

He described these dim memory pictures; and Forest's air of satisfaction
seemed to imply that his own theories in regard to Ben's case were
receiving justification. He appeared quite a little flushed, deeply