“When he was well enough he told me the story of the duel. So far the affair was unromantic enough, for there was not a lady in it. The quarrel had been forced upon him by a fire-eating Frenchman, and swords were drawn on a point of national honour.
“‘I owe my life to you,’ Hegel said.
“‘You owe your life,’ I replied, ‘to Heaven and that faithful dog.’”
“And now, Sir Stranger,” I said as I concluded my story, “we look to you.”
“Well,” said the cyclist, “as you gave a name to your tale, I daresay I must follow suit. Your tale had a dog in it. Mine has a horse, and as the horse’s name was Doddie, so I call my story.”