“I haven't the slightest recollection of being Billy Garrison,” reiterated Billy Garrison, wearily and truthfully.
The ride home was mostly one of silence. Both were thinking. As they came within sight of Calvert House the girl turned to him:
“There is one thing you can do—ride. Like glory. Where did you more than learn?”
“Must have been born with me.”
“What's bred in the bone will come out in the blood,” she quoted enigmatically. She was smiling in a way that made Garrison vaguely uncomfortable.
CHAPTER VII.
SNARK SHOWS HIS FANGS.
Alone in his room that night Garrison endeavored to focus the stray thoughts, suspicions that the day's events had set running through his brain. All Sue Desha had said, and had meant without saying, had been photographed on the sensitized plate of his memory—that plate on which the negatives of the past were but filmy shadows. Now, of them all, the same Garrison was on the sky-line of his imagination.
Could it be possible that Billy Garrison and he were one and the same? And then that incident of the train. Surely he had heard it before, somewhere in the misty long ago. It seemed, too, as if it had occurred coincidently with the moment he had first looked into those gray eyes. He laughed nervously to himself.