underpaid salesman without a relative in the world, except a
married sister in Bordentown, and he awoke to find he was a
direct descendant of "Neck or Nothing" Greene, a revolutionary
hero, a friend of Washington, a man whose portrait hung in the
State House at Trenton. David's life had lacked color. The day he
carried his certificate of membership to the big jewelry store
uptown and purchased two rosettes, one for each of his two coats,
was the proudest of his life.

The other men in the Broadway office took a different view. As
Wyckoff, one of Burdett's flying squadron of travelling salesmen,
said, "All grandfathers look alike to me, whether they're great,
or great-great-great. Each one is as dead as the other. I'd
rather have a live cousin who could loan me a five, or slip me a
drink. What did your great-great dad ever do for you?"

"Well, for one thing," said David stiffly, "he fought in the War
of the Revolution. He saved us from the shackles of monarchical
England; he made it possible for me and you to enjoy the
liberties of a free republic."

"Don't try to tell me your grandfather did all that," protested
Wyckoff, "because I know better. There were a lot of others
helped. I read about it in a book."

"I am not grudging glory to others," returned David; "I am only
saying I am proud that I am a descendant of a revolutionist."

Wyckoff dived into his inner pocket and produced a leather
photograph frame that folded like a concertina.