, kindly. "Won't you come
and talk with us? We don't want to hurt you, or take your property
away from you."

"Ha! ha! I know you! You want to rob me of everything!" cried the
man in yellow, harshly. They now saw that what looked like horns
was simply a yellow cap with two stuffed red appendages on top.
The man had his face smeared with yellow clay.

"We'll not harm you in the least," said Giant, and now, attracted
by something in the strange man's appearance, he went several
steps closer.

When the small youth of the club spoke the man turned to him. A
moment later he started and throw up his hands in surprise.

"Who are you, boy? Speak quickly!" he demanded.

"I am Will Caslette."

"Ha! Where do you come from?"

"I come from Fairview, on the Rocky River."

"And your---your mother?" The man in yellow was now greatly agitated.

"My mother is a widow." Giant had now come closer still and was
looking the man over carefully. "What is your name?"

"My name? Ha ha! I have no name. I am a wanderer."

"But you had a name once---what was it?"

"My name---I cannot remember. Yes, I had one once when I was in
France fair France the belle of all countries! But the name is
gone---gone like the great history I was writing. Yes, and it will
never come back, never!" And the man in yellow threw up his hands
despairingly.

"Was not your name Pierre Dunrot?" asked Giant, quickly.

The strange man staggered back as if shot.

"Pierre Dunrot? Pierre Dunrot?" he repeated slowly. "Yes! yes!
That was my name! How----how did you know it?"

"Because you are my uncle!" gasped Giant, coming to the strange
man's side. "You are Pierre Dunrot, my long-lost uncle."

"Your uncle?"

"Yes, my uncle. Do you not remember my mother, Kate Caslette, and
do you not remember me---your little Guillaume, the boy you used
to ride on your knee?" went on Giant, earnestly and looking the man
straight in the eyes.

"Yes! yes! I remember now!" cried the man, and now his eyes
searched the small youth's face. "You are my little Guillaume
indeed!" He took Giant by the hand. "But how is this---my, mind
is in a whirl! I do not understand!" And he gazed from Giant to
the others in simple-minded perplexity.

"You ran away from home," answered Giant. "It was after the storm,
when the lightning had burnt up the manuscript of your beloved
history---"

"Yes, yes, yes! My beloved history! That is true! Oh, it was
cruel, cruel!