ll soaked in ideas, maybe he'd go back to Bubble Creek, rent
an office over the bank, and begin drawin' front elevations of iron
foundries and double tenements.

That's what comes of havin' rich aunts and uncles in the fam'ly, and
duckin' real work while you wait for notice from the Surrogate to come
on and take your share. It wa'n't a case of hustle with Clifford. I
suspicioned that his bein' an architect was more or less of a fad; but
he was makin' the most of it, there was no discountin' that. He'd laid
out a week to put in seein' how New York was built, high spots and low,
and he went at it like he was workin' by the piece.

Now, say, there ain't no special harm in goin' around town gawpin' at
lib'ries and office buildin's and churches. 'Most anyone could have done
it without bumpin' into trouble; but not Cliffy. It was wonderful how he
dug up ructions--and him the mildest lookin' four-eyed gent ever let
loose. And green! Say, what sort of a flag station is Bubble Creek,
anyway?

Askin' fool questions was Cliffy's specialty. You see, he'd made out a
list of buildin's he thought he wanted to take a look at; but he hadn't
stopped to put down the street numbers or anything. And when he wants
information does he hunt up a directory or a cop? Oh, no! He holds up
anyone that's handy, from a white wings dodgin' trucks in the middle of
Madison Square, to a Wall Street broker rushin' from 'Change out to a
directors' meetin'. He seems to think anybody he meets knows all about
New York, and has time to take him by the hand and lead him right where
he wants to go, whether it's the new Custom House down town, or Grant's
Tomb up on the drive. Throw downs don't discourage him any, either. Two
minutes after he's been told to go chase himself he'll butt right in
somewhere else and call for directions.

The worst of it was that he couldn't remember what he was told for
more'n three minutes on a stretch. We found out these little tricks of
Clifford's after he'd been makin' the office his headquarters for a
couple of days.

First mornin' we started him out early for the Battery, to size up the
Bowling Green Buildin' and the Aquarium. About noon he limps in with his
hat all dirt and ashes up and down his back. From the description he
gives we figure out that he's been somewhere up on Washington Heights
and has got into an argument with a janitor that didn't like being rung
up from the basement and asked how far it was to Whitehall-