"Any?" says he. "Nothing but. Say, you'll see more shiny hardware lugged out of here on a Saturday than——"
"But did you notice any being lugged in today?" I breaks in.
"No," says he. "It's a little early for 'em to start the season, and too near the first of the week. Don't remember a single bag goin' in today."
"Nor a club, either?" I asks.
He takes off his cap and rubs his right ear. Seems to help, too. "Oh, yes," says he. "I remember now. There was an old boy carried one in along about 10 o'clock. A new one that he'd just bought, I expect."
"Sort of a poddy, heavy set old party with a smooth face?" I suggests.
"That was him," says the starter. "He's a reg'lar fiend at it. But, then, he can afford to be. Owns a half interest in the buildin', I understand."
"Must be on good terms with the janitor, then," says I. "He could practice swings on the roof if he felt like it, I expect."
"You've said it," says the starter. "He could do about what he likes around this buildin', Mr. Dowd could."
"Eh?" says I. "The Hon. Matt?"