er and then obeyed.

"Do you solemnly swear," said Goldenfein, who, besides being an
attorney-at-law was also a notary public, "that the affidavit you will
hereafter sign will be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the
truth, so help you God?"

"But----" Fischko began again.

"Do you?" Goldenfein roared, and Fischko nodded. Forthwith Goldenfein
plied him with such ingeniously fashioned questions concerning the
Flixman family that the answers presented a complete history of all its
branches. Furthermore, the affidavit which Goldenfein immediately drew
up lacked only such confirmatory evidence as could easily be supplied to
establish the identity of Miss Yetta Silbermacher as Julius Flixman's
only heir-at-law; and, after Fischko had meekly signed the jurat,
Goldenfein rose ponderously to his feet.

"I congratulate you, Mr. Polatkin," he said. "I think there is no doubt
that your nephew's fiancee will inherit Flixman's estate, thanks to my
professional integrity."

"What d'ye mean your professional integrity?" Kapfer asked.

"Why, if I hadn't refused to accept twenty-two dollars for drawing the
will and insisted on the twenty-five we had agreed upon," Goldenfein
explained, "he would never have suffered the heart attack which
prevented his signing the will before he died."

"Died!" Fischko exclaimed. "Is Julius Flixman dead?"

"_Koosh_, Fischko!" Polatkin commanded. "You would think you was one of
the family the way you are acting. Come down to our store to-morrow and
we would arrange things with you." He turned to Kapfer.

"Let's go upstairs and see Elkan--and Yetta," he said.

Immediately they trooped to the elevator and ascended to the seventh
floor.

"All of you wait here in the corridor," Kapfer whispered, "and I'll go
and break it to them." He tiptoed to his room and knocked gently at the
door.

"Come!" Elkan cried, and Kapfer turned the knob.

On a sofa near the window sat Elkan, with his arm surrounding his
fiancee's waist and her head resting on his shoulder.

"Hello, Max!" he cried. "What's kept you? We must have been waiting here
at least a quarter of an hour!"

CHAPTER FOUR

HIGHGRADE LINES

"Sure, I know, Mr. Scheikowitz," cried Elkan Lubliner, junior partner of
Polatkin, Scheikowitz & Company, as he sat in the firm's office late one
February afternoon; "but if you want to sell a highgrade concern like
Joseph Kammerman you must got to got a highgrade line of goods."

"Ain'