"The time I got a black eye, and you lost part of your ear?" asked
Harding, his eyes brightening at thought of it.
"That's the time," declared Bishop. "I tore your clothes most to pieces."
"I don't remember about that," responded the railroad magnate, "but I do remember that I flopped you three times out of five."
"Three times outer nothin'!" exclaimed the farmer. "I put you down fair and square three times running, Bob, and if you'll stop and think a minute you'll recollect it."
"Recollect nothing!" defiantly laughed Harding. "You never saw the day in your life, when you or any boy in Buckfield could put my shoulders to the ground three times running. You're losing your memory, Jim."
"I did it all right."
"I say you didn't!"
"And I can do it again!"
"You can, eh?" shouted Harding, springing to his feet and pulling off his coat. "We'll mighty quick see if you can! I'll tackle you right here on this croquet ground!"
"Side holt, square holt, or catch-as-catch-can?" asked Bishop, casting one anxious look towards the house.