The plump little man leaned over Gamadge&rsquo;s shoulder and squeaked in his ear: &ldquo;Who am I?&rdquo;<br />&ldquo;Hutter!&rdquo;<br />&ldquo;It&rsquo;s a wonder you knew me.&rdquo; Sylvanus Hutter circled Gamadge&rsquo;s chair, pulled one up for himself, and sat down. He smiled and rubbed his knees. &ldquo;That last reunion was in 1927.&rdquo;<br />&ldquo;Good Heavens.&rdquo; Gamadge had laid aside his magazine, to gaze benevolently at his old classmate. &ldquo; &rsquo;27 from &rsquo;42 leaves fifteen.&rdquo;<br />&ldquo;That&rsquo;s New York for you! But of course I&rsquo;m always on the wing; or was,&rdquo; his face fell, &ldquo;until recently. Life will be different for awhile, I suppose.&rdquo;<br />&ldquo;Plenty of things to see on our continent.&rdquo;