'I have. I met with a nasty accident in England. I was riding in a hurdle race and came a cropper on my head, and my memory has not been the same since.'
'I'm sorry for that,' said Jim. 'That accounts for it. I thought you seemed curiously forgetful about things around here.'
Rodney Shaw gave a sigh of relief.
'Yes, that explains it, as you say. If you remind me of people I knew, and places I have been to with you, and what we formerly did together, I shall recall it all, and not forget it again, but the spill seemed to knock a lot of old memories out of my head.'
'I have heard of such things before,' said Jim. 'I once knew a steeplechase rider who almost entirely lost his memory through an accident.'
'My case exactly,' said Rodney Shaw. 'What was that row at Swamp Creek? I forget it.'
'We were on a bender at old John Slade's pub,' said Jim, 'and you kissed his daughter, and he went for you hot and strong, although I don't think the girl had any objections.'
'You were fairly powerful in those days, and you fired Joe out of the bar, and a regular free fight took place, in which a lot of damage was done. Your old man was very angry about it, but Adye Dauntsey smoothed it over. I took your part, of course, and should have got into trouble, only they couldn't very well drag me into it and leave you out.'
Rodney Shaw laughed as he replied,—
'I recollect it quite well. We had some rare sprees in those days. You were always ready to stand by me.'