"Charmed to see you, by Jove!"

And it turns out he's DeLancey Cathaway, the big noise in the
philanthropy game, him that gets up societies for suppressin' the poor
and has his name on hospitals and iron drinkin' fountains. After he's
been introduced all around he admits that he's caught one or two remarks,
and says he wants to congratulate Duke on givin' up his idle ways and
breakin' into an active career.

Oh, he's a smooth old party, Mr. Cathaway is! He don't let on to be
more'n moderately int'rested, and the next thing I know he's sidled away
from Duke and is walkin' out alongside of me.

"Going down town?" says he. "Then perhaps you will allow me to give you a
lift?" and he motions to his town car waiting at the curb.

"Gee!" thinks I. "I'm makin' a hit with the nobility, me and my winnin'
ways!"

That don't exactly state the case, though; for as soon as we're alone
DeLancey comes right to cases.

"I understand, Mr. McCabe," says he, "that you are to visit Clam Creek."

"Yep," says I. "Sounds enticin', don't it?"

"Doubtless you will spend a day or so there?" he goes on.

"Over night, anyway," says I.

"Hum!" says he. "Then you will hardly fail to meet my brother. He is
living at Clam Creek."

"What!" says I. "Not Broadway Bob?"

"Yes," says he, "Robert and his wife have been there for nearly two
years. At least, that is where I have been sending his allowance."

"Mrs. Bob too!" says I. "Why--why, say, you don't mean the one that----"

"The same," he cuts in. "I know they're supposed to be abroad; but
they're not, they are at Clam Creek."

Maybe you've heard about the Bob Cathaways, and maybe you ain't. There's
so many new near-plutes nowadays that the old families ain't getting the
advertisin' they've been used to. Anyway, it's been sometime since
Broadway Bob had his share of the limelight. You see, Bob sort of had his
day when he was along in his thirties, and they say he was a real
old-time sport and rounder, which was why he was let in so bad when old
man Cathaway's will was probated. All Bob pulls out is a couple of
thousand a year, even that being handled first by Brother DeLancey, who
cops all the rest of the pile as a reward for always having gone in
strong for charity and the perfectly good life.

It's a case where virtue shows up strong from the first tap of the bell.
Course, Bob can look back on some years of vivid joy, when he was makin'
a record as a quart opener, buyin' stacks of b