t of the superb mirrors behind the rich
walnut counters gleaming with crystal and silver.

The music of the Orchestrion bore away on its flood of Strauss
waltzes the shrill chatter of women's laughter in the inside hell
of the private rooms.

Opening doors admitted fragments of poker gabble as the white-aproned
waiters rushed around with their trays of drinks.

With artful geography of arrangement, gaudy women from the side
street, at tables, were parading their too evident charms before
the crowd of clerks, men about town, warrant officers, railroad
employees, old roues, sporting men and belated "slummers" who leered
at every arrival of "fresh fish."

Young Einstein, scribbling the single word "Emil" on a card, approached
the parchment-faced German lad who sat in state, manipulating the
bewildering keys of the "Cash Register."

"Send this to the boss at once," said Einstein in a low voice.

"You can't see him," contemptuously announced the insolent
Jack-in-office, tossing back the card. He scented a possible
successor in this vulpine-looking young stranger. But Einstein
resolutely came back to the charge. "It's his business, and he'll
jerk you out of your job if you throw me down. I will not stir a
step till I see him. Send it up."

And Emil made a significant gesture with a defiant thumb.

Audacity carried the day! Young Einstein, coolly purchasing
a Regalia and seating himself at a table, grinned a last defiance
as a "Kellner" finally touched his arm and led him into a vacant
card-room.

Down a stairway came the sounding tread of a heavy man, and Einstein
was in the presence of Mr. Fritz Braun.

"It's about him, Clayton," faltered the boy, awed at his employer's
lowering face.

"Come with me," harshly said Braun, as he led the lad up to the
third floor. When they had entered a rear sleeping-room, Braun
locked the door. "Tell me all," he anxiously cried. "Out with it.
If you lie you'll never leave this house, remember!"

With chattering teeth, the lad delivered himself of his discovery.
It was only after half an hour of cross questioning that Braun was
satisfied with the details of Robert Wade's espionage of Randall
Clayton. "You've done well, for yourself," said Braun, at last,
handing the boy a roll of bills. "But never come here again. I'll
give you an address to-morrow where you can call, telephone or
telegraph, and a name. Post me on all. Keep this from your mother.
I'll handle her myself. Now,