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"But, pray condescend to tell us how you know this fine old boy to be
superlatively rich."
Overtop smiled upon his ignorant friends, and answered:
"Because he wears a white cravat. The man isn't a clergyman, is he? Do
clergymen smoke pipes? He isn't a Quaker, is he? Do Quakers, or those of
them who indulge in white cravats, wear their coat collars turned down?
Consult your own experience, now, and tell me whether you ever saw
anybody but a very rich man (with the exceptions already stated) wearing
a white cravat. I leave it to your candor."
Wilkeson and Maltboy nodded their heads, as if stricken dumb with
conviction.
Overtop, gratified with this ready acquiescence, modestly went on to say
that he would not undertake to explain the phenomenon; that task he left
to some more philosophical mind. He contented himself with making a
humble record of facts.
"And now that each of you have made a discovery in the row of houses,
let me try my luck." Overtop rubbed the window, looked out, and
carefully surveyed the row from end to end, and back again.


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