The man was a stranger to my recollection.
"Do you remember me, Mr.Quirk ?" I asked.
He peered out at me under his bushy brows and slowly removed his pipe.
"Not to my knowledge," he answered.

"What might be your name ?" "Quibble," I returned--"Artemas Quibble." "Artemas Quibble!" he exclaimed in a faltering voice and feebly crawled over to the buggy.
I climbed down to meet him and extended my hand.
"What has happened to you ?" he stammered.

"I thought you were a great lawyer in New York." "I'm in a peck of trouble," I answered.

"I need all the friends I've got.

I hope you're still one of them ?" "Well, well!" he muttered.