Yet I could distinctly remember that in my Adam Strang adventure I had frequently played chess.
The trouble was that whenever I came back to consciousness in solitary, unessential and intricate details faded from my memory.
It must be remembered that for convenience I have assembled my intermittent and repetitional jacket experiences into coherent and consecutive narratives.

I never knew in advance where my journeys in time would take me.

For instance, I have a score of different times returned to Jesse Fancher in the wagon-circle at Mountain Meadows.

In a single ten-days' bout in the jacket I have gone back and back, from life to life, and often skipping whole series of lives that at other times I have covered, back to prehistoric time, and back of that to days ere civilization began.
So I resolved, on my next return from Adam Strang's experiences, whenever it might be, that I should, immediately, I on resuming consciousness, concentrate upon what visions and memories.

I had brought back of chess playing.