rs from under the washstand. They both asks
questions at once. How is everybody, and who's married who, and are so
and so still living together?

I reels off society gossip for an hour before I gets a chance to do some
pumpin' on my own hook. What I wants to know is why in blazes they're
hidin' in a hole like Clam Creek.

Bob only shrugs his shoulders. "Why not here as well as anywhere?" says
he. "When you can't afford to live among your friends, why--you live in
Clam Creek."

"But two years of it!" says I. "What do you find to do?"

"Oh, we manage," says he, wavin' at the double dummy outfit. "Babe and I
have our little game. It's only for a dime a point; but it helps pass
away the time. You see, when our monthly allowance comes in we divide it
equally and take a fresh start. The winner has the privilege of paying
our bills."

How was that for excitement? And Bob whispers to me, as we starts out for
a little walk before turnin' in, "I generally fix it so Babe--er, Mrs.
Cathaway--can win, you know."

From other little hints I gathers that their stay in Clam Creek has done
one thing for 'em, anyway. It had put 'em wise to the great fact that the
best way for two parties to get along together is to cut out the hammer
music.

"So you had a talk with DeLancey?" says Bob on the way back. "I suppose
he--er--sent no message?"

It had taken Bob Cathaway all this while to work up to that question, and
he can't steady down his voice as he puts it. And that quaver tells me
the whole story of how he's been hoping all along that Brother DeLancey
would sometime or other get over his grouch. Which puts it up to me to
tell him what a human iceberg he's related to. Did I? Honest, there's
times when I ain't got much use for the truth.

"Message?" says I, prompt and cheerful. "Now what in blazes was it he did
say to tell you? Something about asking how long before you and Mrs.
Cathaway was goin' to run up and make him a visit, I guess."

"A visit!" gasps Bob. "Did--did DeLancey say that? Then thank Heaven it's
over! Come on! Hurry!" and he grabs me by the arm, tows me to the hotel,
and makes a dash up the stairs towards their room.

"What do you think, Babe?" says he, pantin'. "DeLancey wants to know when
we're coming back!"

For a minute Mrs. Bob don't say a word, but just stands there, her hands
gripped in Bob's, and the dew startin' out of her eye corners. Then she
asks, sort of husky, "Isn't there a night train, Bob?"