Here he was, though, in the Dillon flat, with Mother Dillon almost knockin' his breath out pattin' him on the back, and all the little Dillons jumpin' around and yellin', "Uncle 'Loyshy, Uncle 'Loyshy!" and Kate and Maggie and Nora waitin' their turns; and the rest of us, includin' old Larry and me and Sadie, lookin' foolish. The only one that acts like he wa'n't surprised is Pinckney. Well, as soon as Shrimp can wiggle himself clear, and shake the little Dillons off his legs, he hauls Mrs. Shrimp to the front and does the honours. And say, they make a pair that would draw a crowd anywhere! You know the style of chorus ladies the Lieblers bring over,--the lengthy, high chested, golden haired kind? Well, she's one of the dizziest that ever stood up to make a background for the pony ballet. And she has on a costume--well, it goes with the hat, which it puttin' it strong. If the sight of her and the circus coloured car wa'n't enough to stun the neighbours and send the Bradys under the bed, they had only to wait till the Swede valet and the footman began luggin' up the sheaf of two-dollar roses and the basket of champagne. I was watchin' old Larry to see how he was takin' it. First he looks Shrimp up and down, from the brown hat to the yellow shoes, and then he gazes at Mrs. Shrimp. Then his stiff lower jaw begins saggin' down, and his knobby old fingers unloosens from the grip they'd got into at first sight of 'Loyshy. It's plain that he was some in doubt about that chuckin' out programme he'd had all framed up. What Larry had been expectin' should the boy turn up at all, was something that looked like it had been picked out of the bread line. And here was a specimen of free spender that had "Keep the change!" pasted all over him. Then, before he has it half figured out, they're lined up in front of each other. But old Larry ain't one to do the sidestep. "Aloysius," says he, scowlin' down at him, "where do ye be afther gettin' ut?" "Out of the ponies, old stuff. Where else?" says Shrimp. "Bettin'?" says Larry. "Bettin' nothin'!" says Shrimp. "Mud ridin'." "Allow me," says Pinckney, pushin' in, "to introduce to you all, ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Shrimp Dillon, one of the best paid jockeys in America." "And what might they be payin' the likes of him for bein' a jockey?" says old Larry. "Why," says Pinckney, "it was something like twenty thousand this season, wasn't it, Shrimp?" "Countin' bonuses and all," says Shrimp, "it was nearer thirty-two." "Thirty-two thou----" But Larry's mouth is open so wide he can't get the rest out. He just catches his breath, and then, "'Loyshy, me lad, give us your hand on it." "Ahem!" says Father Kelley, pickin' up his hat, "this seems to be a case where the prodigal has returned--and brought his veal with him." "That's a thrue word," says Larry. "'Tis a proud day for the Dillons."