"No, he ran up against me," I answered.
"Here, sit down," said Moore. "What, in heaven's name, has got into you?"
"Nothing. Only I desire to know that man's name. I have had an experience with him."
"Indeed! You're not the first, then; have you been up to anything shady, Stone?" said Moore, laughingly.
"No, only smoky—a fire. This man saved a child's life in a magnificent manner. What's his name?"
"Oh! I see. His name is Oakes. You should know that. He left college just a year or so after you and I entered. Don't you remember the fellow who saved those boys from drowning in the harbor that day?"
"You don't tell me! Is that Quintus Oakes? I never met him, but of course I knew him; everybody at college did, after that."
"Yes, that's the same fellow."
"Well, I certainly did not recognize his face. Only saw it a moment, but there was something about him that seemed familiar—that walk of his—I remember it now."
As the memories of youth crowded upon me I recalled him well, and realized that the years had filled out his figure and face; but it was the same man, the same walk and carriage—I had seen them hundreds of times. The quick, easy stride, erect figure and commanding bearing that had marked him so in his youth were as noticeable now, in his full manhood, as in those years of the long ago.