One morning a week or two after his wedding, Matthew was sitting in his private office, when his secretary announced a caller, one B. Brown. After the usual delay staged for the purpose of impressing all visitors, Matthew ordered him in. A short, plump, well-dressed, soft-spoken man entered and greeted him respectfully. The Grand Exalted Giraw waved to a chair and the stranger sat down. Suddenly, leaning over close to Matthew, he whispered, "Don't recognize me, do you Max?"
The Grand Giraw paled and started. "Who are you?" he whispered hoarsely. How in the devil did this man know him? He peered at him sharply.
The newcomer grinned. "Why it's me, Bunny Brown, you big sap!"
"Well, cut my throat!" Matthew exclaimed in amazement. "Boy, is it really you?" Bunny's black face had miraculously bleached. He seemed now more chubby and cherubic than ever.
"It aint my brother," said Bunny with his familiar beam.
"Bunny, where've you been all this time? Why didn't you come on down here when I wrote you? You must've been in jail."
"Mind reader! That's just where I've been," declared the former bank clerk.
"What for? Gambling?"
"No: Rambling."
"What do you mean: Rambling?" asked the puzzled Matthew.