. I had had two blow-outs the
previous day, and had bought two casings. Then, just as we were coming
into Canandaigua my whole transmission went. This was ten or twelve
years ago, and the nearest thing Canandaigua had to a garage was a tin
shop. I got the car pulled in under a wagon shed and put in eighteen
hours building a new transmission out of an old copper pump and a
rainspout.

Buying the two casings had "broke" me, and now I had a two-days' hotel
bill for four people, and nothing to pay it with. Fine! But with my most
winning way I went up to the desk and said to the old landlord,

"Mr. Landlord, I am in rather an embarrassing fix. I owe you a bill and
I have no money."

The landlord was a quaint, silent old fellow, with thick glasses and a
very disconcerting stare. He now used this stare hard and said nothing.
So I hastened to add--

"Of course I have got money, but I haven't got it with me; and I shall
have to give you a check."

He just gave a little sniff and turned his head and glanced up at a
framed card above the desk which read--

+-----------------+
|NO CHECKS CASHED.|
+-----------------+

"But," I hastened to add, "I'll tell you what I would like to have you
do. You telegraph, at my expense of course, to Mr. Murphy, of the
Genesee Hotel, or Mr. Shea, at Shea's Theater, and I think they will
assure you that Will Cressy's check is good."

He sniffed again and looked at me through those big glasses, and I began
to get rattled in earnest. There must be some way; I must have
something that will convince this man I am not a crook. I have it! My
Identification Card from my insurance company. Hastily getting out my
pocketbook I showed him this card.

"I can show you all right that I am Will Cressy. See? Here is my
picture; and how heavy I am; and how tall; and the color of my eyes; and
hair; and my signature."

Anxiously I looked up at him again. And I hadn't touched him. I began to
get desperate. Frantically I searched through my pocketbook for
_something_ that would show my identity. I dragged out my different Club
Cards.

"See!" I said, "I belong to the Lambs' Club, in New York; and the
Friars; and the Green Room Club; and the Touring Club of America; and
the Vaudeville Comedy Club."

I stopped; almost tearfully I looked at him. I could do no more. He
sniffed again, shifted his weight from one foot to the other and said,

"You're a hell of a feller when you're home, ain't ye?"