, if you must got to know," Kapfer said, "he's a feller by the name
Julius Flixman."

"What?" Fischko shouted.

"Fischko," Kapfer protested, "you ain't in no Canal Street coffee house
here. This is a first-class hotel."

Fischko nodded distractedly.

"Sure, I know," he said. "Is there a place we could sit down here? I
want to ask you something a few questions."

Kapfer led the way to the cafe and they sat down at a table near the
door.

"Go ahead, Fischko," he said. "Polatkin and Scheikowitz will be here any
minute."

"Well," Fischko began falteringly, "if this here feller is Julius
Flixman, which he is coming from Bessarabia _schon_ thirty years ago
already, I don't want to do nothing in a hurry, Mr. Kapfer, on account I
want to investigate first how things stand."

"What d'ye mean?" Kapfer demanded.

"Why, I mean this," Fischko cried: "If this here Flixman is well fixed,
Kapfer, I want to know it, on account Miss Yetta Silbermacher is from
Flixman's sister a daughter, understand me!"

Kapfer lit a cigar deliberately before replying. He was thinking hard.

"Do you mean to tell me," he said at last, "that this here Miss
Silbermacher is Julius Flixman's a niece?"

"That's what I said," Fischko replied. "He comes here from Bessarabia
thirty years ago already and from that day to this I never heard a word
about him--Miss Silbermacher neither."

"Ain't the rest of his family heard from him?" Kapfer asked guardedly.

"There ain't no rest of his family," Fischko said. "Mrs. Silbermacher
was his only sister, and she's dead over ten years since."

Kapfer nodded and drew reflectively on his cigar.

"Well, Fischko," he said finally, "I wouldn't let Flixman worry me none.
He's practically a _Schnorrer_; he was in here just now on account he
hears I am going to marry a rich girl and touches me for some money on
the head of it. I guess you noticed that he looks pretty shabby--ain't
it?"

"And sick too," Fischko added, just as a bellboy came into the cafe.

"Mr. Copper!" he bawled, and Max jumped to his feet.

"Right here," he said, and the bellboy handed him a card.

"Tell them I'll be with them in a minute," he continued; "and you stay
here till I come back, Fischko. I won't be long."

He followed the bellboy to the desk, where stood Polatkin and
Scheikowitz.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," he said.

"Well, Mr. Kapfer," Scheikowitz replied, "I guess I got to congradulate
you."

"Sure!" Kapfer murmured