I thought his name couldn't get better, but then I learned that in World War One he was Major Keen! He was about eighty at the time.
Walter has finally put in an appearance in the memoirs:
For life insurance purposes, etc., I frequently have had my height and weight measured. My height was consistently five feet four and a half inches. After I had passed the insurable age, I had no occasion to measure my height, but one day early in 1920, I had it measured out of mere curiosity. I had lost three inches and measured only five feet one and a half inches, and thus discovered the reason why I had to stand on tiptoe to reach the lights in the office chandelier. But even at that lower height, I surpassed Napoleon, who measured, I believe, only five feet, and was known as the "Little Corporal."
I mentioned it at the table, one day when the Freemans were with us, and said it was evidently due to the compression of the invertebral cartileges [sic]. "No," said Walter, my loyal oldest grandchild, "it is due to the weight of the ideas in your head."
Then, a couple of pages later:
Towards the end of January 1922, I received a letter from a gentleman in British Columbia asking for certain information. It was addressed "To the son of the late Dr. W.W. Keen." I replied, giving the information sought, and added, "I beg to inform you that my sons are all daughters and I am yours truly, the late W.W. Keen."
I love this guy. The only thing that keeps me from wishing that he had been my grandfather is that then I'd be dead.