I know him and his
kind so well. Nothing so peculiar about his case. Lots of them swell
coachmen go that way, and in his day Tony has driven for some big people.
Him and me got acquainted when he was wearin' the Twombley-Crane livery
and drawin' down his sixty-five a month. That wa'n't so long ago,
either.

But it's hard waitin' hours on the box in cold weather, and they get to
boozin'. When they hit it up too free they lose their places. After
they've lost too many places they don't get any more. Meantime they've
accumulated rheumatism and a fam'ly of kids. They've got lazy habits too,
and new jobs don't come easy at forty. The next degree is loafin' around
home permanent; but they ain't apt to find that so pleasant unless the
wife is a good hustler. Most likely she rows it. So they chuck the fam'ly
and drift off by themselves.

That's the sort of chaps you'll find on the bread lines. But Tony hadn't
quite got to that yet. I knew the corner beer joint where he did odd jobs
as free lunch carver and window cleaner. Also I knew the line of talk I
meant to hand out to him when I got my fingers on his collar.

"Well?" says Miss Ann, when I comes back with the empty basket. "Did you
find it an interesting case?"

"Maybe that's the word," says I.

"You saw the young woman, did you?" says she, "the one who----"

"Sure," says I. "She's got it--bad."

"Ah!" says Miss Ann, brightenin' up. "And now about that life
membership!"

"Well," says I, "the Piny Crest proposition is all right, and I'd like to
see it started; but the fact is, Miss Colliver, if I should put my name
down with all them big people I'd be runnin' out of my class."

"You would be--er----Beg pardon," says she, "but I don't think I quite
get you?"

I'd suspected she wouldn't. But how was I going to dope out to her clear
and straight what's so muddled up in my own head? You know, all about how
Annie got her cough, and my feelin's towards the firms that's sweatin'
the Tiscotts, from the baby up, and a lot of other things that I can't
state.

"As I said," goes on Miss Colliver, "I hardly think I understand."

"Me either," says I. "My head's just a merry go round of whys and
whatfors. But, as far as that fund of yours goes, I don't come in."

"Humph!" says she. "That, at least, is quite definite. Home, Hutchins!"

And there I am left on the curb lookin' foolish. Me, I don't ride back to
the studio on any broadcloth cushions! Serves me right too, I exp