"Ain' got no name 'cept Yankee Blank. What's the matter with yer, anyhow?" "Didn't you ever hear of Captain Nichol?" "Reckon not. Mout have. I've nussed mo' cap'ins than I kin reckerlect." "Are you a hospital nurse?" "Sorter 'spect I am. That's what I does, anyhow. Have you anything agin it? Don't yer come 'ferin' round with me less yer a doctor, astin' no end o' questions. Air you a new doctor?" "My name is Hobart Martine," the speaker forced himself to say, expecting fearfully a sign of recognition, for the impression that it was Nichol grew upon him every moment, in spite of apparent proof to the contrary. "Hump! Hob't Ma'tine. Never yeared on yer. Ef yer want ter chin mo' in the mawnin', I'll be yere." "Wait a moment, Yan--" "Yankee Blank, I tole yer." "Well, here's a dollar for the trouble I'm making you," and Martine's face flushed with shame at the act, so divided was his impression about the man. Yankee Blank took the money readily, grinned, and said, "Now I'll chin till mawnin' ef yer wants hit." "I won't keep you long. You remind me of--of--well, of Captain Nichol." "He must 'a' been a cur'ous chap. Folks all say I'm a cur'ous chap." "Won't you please tell me all that you can remember about yourself?" "'Tain't much. Short hoss soon curried. Allus ben in hospitals. Had high ole jinks with a wound on my haid. Piece o' shell, they sez, cut me yere," and he pointed to a scar across his forehead. "That's what they tole me. Lor'! I couldn't mek much out o' the gibberish I firs' year, en they sez I talked gibberish too. But I soon got the hang o' the talk in the hospital. Well, ez I wuz sayin', I've allus been in hospitals firs' one, then anuther. I got well, en the sojers call me Yankee Blank en set me waitin' on sick uns en the wounded. That's what I'm a-doin' now." "You were in Southern hospitals?" "I reckon. They called the place Richman." "Why did you come here?" "Kaze I wuz bro't yere. They said I was 'changed." "Exchanged, wasn't it?" "Reckon it was. Anyhow I wuz bro't yere with a lot o' sick fellers. I wuzn't sick. For a long time the doctors kep' a-pesterin' me with questions, but they lemme 'lone now. I 'spected you wuz a new doctor, en at it agin." "Don't you remember the village of Alton?" The man shook his head. "Don't you--" and Martine's voice grew husky--"don't you remember Helen Kemble?" "A woman?" "Yes." "Never yeared on her. I only reckerlect people I've seen in hospitals. Women come foolin' roun' some days, but Lor'! I kin beat any on 'em teekin' keer o' the patients; en wen they dies, I kin lay 'em out. You ast the wardmaster ef I kant lay out a stiff with the best o' 'em." "That will do. You can go to sleep now." "All right, Doc. I call everybody doc who asts sech a lot o' questions." He shuffled to his cot and was soon asleep. CHAPTER VIII "HOW CAN I?"