The old man's eyes flickered open. He looked at me first, then at Nan. "Well," he said in a peculiar muffled tone that suggested he was speaking through an obstruction like a fencing mask, "isn't this cozy!" I immediately threw a lot of questions at him. His name, he said, was Ashe--just plain Ashe. He couldn't remember any other name. He couldn't remember why he'd been beaten up, nor what had led up to it. He was very confused. He thought maybe it would all come back to him later. However, he did remember my rescuing him and he appreciated that very much. Hearing him say so gave me a nice, tingling glow. I invited him to stay for dinner and he accepted. * * * * * Nan objected. "There's only salad," she wailed. "It was too hot to cook." "Salad's fine," I told her. "Oh, Ted, please!" "Listen here," I said coldly, "I've invited Ashe to stay and he's accepted. Why all the fuss?" She gave me a hurt look, turned, flounced into the kitchen. I started to follow, thinking I'd made a mistake in being so brusque. Then I thought, the heck with it. Let her take it any way she wanted. Sweat was plastering my shirt and pants to me like a skindiver's outfit. I needed a shower. I told Ashe to rest easy and went into the bathroom. When I came out, Tommy had returned. He and the old man were busily gabbing. Nan, standing by the kitchen door, frantically signaled me to join her. In the kitchen, she backed me against the sink. "Get him out of here!" "Why?" I asked, startled. "There's something wrong with him." "Wrong?" "He gives me the willies." "It's just the heat," I scoffed. "If you must know, he--he leered at me! While you were in the shower. It was awful!" "Nan, do you think that kind of yarn is going to stop me from writing about what happened tonight? It won't. And you can make up your mind I'm keeping the job. When I get through with the people in this town, they'll know they've been dealing with Edward Potter!" Tight-lipped, she went to the refrigerator for the supper. As soon as we'd sat down, Ashe began to talk. He kept it up through the entire meal. He'd been everywhere and done everything, to hear him tell it. Tommy, listening bug-eyed, kept asking questions. It sort of got me. The hero of the affair, to my own son, was Ashe! It was Nan who finally blew the whistle. "Mr. Ashe," she said, her voice honed to a razor-edge, "I'm sure Ted would be much more interested in knowing what led up to the fight tonight--or are you still confused?" There was a beat of three while he studied Nan carefully. Then he said, "It's quite apparent, Mrs. Potter, that you've absolutely no use for me. This shows discernment. Most likely, with a woman's instinct, you've hit upon at least part of the truth. Because of that, it might be wise to lay all my cards on the table. But I warn you, it will be hard to believe." "That," said Nan, leaning back with a gleam of triumph in her eyes, "I'll bet on!"