perfunctorily. "Let's go into the Moorish Room."

"What's the matter with the cafe?" Polatkin asked; but Scheikowitz
settled the matter by leading the way to the Moorish Room, where they
all sat down at a secluded table.

"The first thing I want to tell you, gentlemen," Kapfer said, "is that I
know you feel that I turned a dirty trick on you about Elkan."

Scheikowitz shrugged expressively.

"The way we feel about it, Mr. Kapfer," he commented, "is that bygones
must got to be bygones--and that's all there is to it."

"But," Kapfer said, "I don't want the bygones to be all on my side; so I
got a proposition to make you. How would it be if I could fix up a good
_Shidduch_ for Elkan myself?"

"What for a _Shidduch_?" Polatkin asked.

"The girl is an orphan," Kapfer replied, "_aber_ she's got one uncle, a
bachelor, which ain't got no relation in the world but her, and he's
worth anyhow seventy-five thousand dollars."

"How do you know he's worth that much?" Polatkin demanded.

"Because I got some pretty close business dealings with him," Kapfer
replied; "and not only do I know he's worth that much, but I guess you
do too, Mr. Polatkin, on account his name is Julius Flixman."

"Julius Flixman?" Scheikowitz cried. "Why, Julius Flixman ain't got a
relation in the world--he told me so himself."

"When did he told you that?" Kapfer asked.

"A couple of days ago," Scheikowitz replied.

"Then that accounts for it," Kapfer said. "A couple of days ago nobody
knows he had a niece--not even Flixman himself didn't; but to-day yet he
would know it and he would tell you so himself."

"But----" Scheikowitz began, when once again a page entered the room,
bawling a phonetic imitation of Kapfer's name.

"Wanted at the 'phone," he called as he caught sight of Kapfer.

"Excuse me," Kapfer said. "I'll be right back."

He walked hurriedly out of the room, and Polatkin turned with a shrug to
his partner.

"Well, Scheikowitz," he began, "what did I told you? We are up here on a
fool's errand--ain't it?"

Scheikowitz made no reply.

"I'll tell you, Polatkin," he said at length, "Flixman himself says to
me he did got one sister living in Bessarabia, and he ain't heard from
her in thirty years; and----"

At this juncture Kapfer rushed into the room.

"Scheikowitz," he gasped, "I just now got a telephone message from a
lawyer on Center Street, by the name Goldenfein, I should come right
down there. Flixman is taken sick sudd