"No, as near as I can remember, I had a horse or a pony," replied Dick. "I seem to recall something about owning one. I know I used to take long drives in a carriage, through a beautiful country."
"Den you didn't lif in New York," declared Sam, positively. "Dis is a great city, but dere ain't no beautiful country about it. I know. I lived in der country in der Vaterland, und dot vos country dere vot vos country," and he sighed in regret.
He looked at the piece of paper once more.
"Vait!" he exclaimed. "Vos you ever haf a desire for a bicycle? Maybe dot's it. Maybe your fadder vouldn't gif you a bicycle, und you runned avay to hund Indians, und dey scalped you, und took your remembery mit 'em."
"Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Dick, laughing in spite of himself. "I never cared much for a bicycle. I'm sure I shouldn't have run away from home because I couldn't have one."
"Und der Indians didn't scalp you?" asked Sam, as if still in doubt.
"No, indeed. I've got all my hair yet, even if my memory has gone back on me. I guess that must refer to some other boy. Why, of course it does. Here it says his first name is Isaac, and the description isn't at all like me."
"Vell, dot's so," admitted Sam, when he had read the item over again. "I guess it must be somebodies else dan you. I'm sorry, Dick. I thought sure I hat found out who you vos."
"I wish you had, Sam, but I'll find out some day."
Dick sighed in regret, for the strain was beginning to tell on him. Nevertheless he bore up well.