night
classes. I have been attending the lectures there and reading during
the day. There's a big chance for physicians who can speak Yiddish.
Not only to make money, but to do good."

"I see." The coroner regarded him reflectively for a moment. "Now, Mr.
Brolatsky, having worked for Hume for some years, you must have picked
up some details as to his business and himself. Suppose you tell us
all you know about both."

The dark face of Brolatsky became thoughtful.

"Mr. Hume was a hard man to get along with," he said. "He seemed ready
to quarrel at any time with anybody. I don't recall a customer ever
coming into the store that he didn't have some kind of trouble with
before they went out. But he had a great knowledge of the things he
dealt in. People came from far and near to get his opinion on items in
their collections. His fees," with appreciation, "were large.

"But there is one thing that I noticed about him. While he knew all
about objects of art, he did not seem to care for them. He had no love
for his trade, no sympathy, I may say, for the collectors who came to
him. I wouldn't be going far from the truth if I said that he thought
them all fools for paying their money for such things. And I _know_
that he mocked them."

"Humph!" Stillman looked at Ashton-Kirk, with surprise upon his face.
"That seems odd. Men usually go into Hume's business through love of
it." He turned once more to Brolatsky. "And he had no hobby of his
own, no collection that he fancied more than another?"

Brolatsky nodded amusedly.

"Yes," he replied. "I was just coming to that. He _did_ have a
collection that he called his own. And he never sold an item from it
as long as I was with him. Indeed, I think if anybody had offered to
buy, he would have come to blows with him."

Ashton-Kirk bent forward. For the first time since entering the room,
he spoke.

"And what was the nature of that collection?" he inquired eagerly.

"Portraits," answered Isidore Brolatsky. "Prints, lithographs,
mezzo-tints, engravings, paintings, it made no difference. And all of
the same person. He had hundreds, I guess, and every one of them was
of General Wayne."

Ashton-Kirk leaned back in his chair with a faint breath of triumph.

"When a portrait of General Wayne was offered him," continued
Brolatsky, "he never haggled over it. He paid the price asked and
seemed quite delighted to get it. It was a standing joke in the trade
that if you wanted to ge