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Last week he reached Cannes, found himself competing with the Sultan of Morocco for official honors. Delayed trunks caused him to spend his first day on the Riviera in his hotel room with "nothing to wear." Finally he emerged in a bright indigo costume, to find himself quite inconspicuous among all the gaudy red, green and yellow clothes of the resort. He made a brief excursion to Monte Carlo, looked over the gaming rooms but did not take a chance. Toasted as the "greatest wet in America." he exclaimed: "If any proof is needed, I'll furnish it forthwith," gulped down a glass of champagne.