heek throughout the first
movement in a posture of earnest attention.

"Why," he cried as the musician paused, "this man is a genius!"

Max Merech nodded. His face was flushed and his eyes were filled with
tears.

"What did I told you, Mr. Lubliner?" he said; and Jassy raised his hand
for silence while Volkovisk began the second movement. This and the
succeeding movements fully sustained the promise of the earlier portions
of the composition; and when at length Volkovisk rose from the piano
stool and approached the table Kammerman jumped from his chair and wrung
the composer's hand.

"Sit in my chair," he insisted, and snapped his fingers at Marculescu,
who fumed impotently behind the cashier's desk.

"Here," he called; "more wine--and look sharp about it!"

Marculescu obeyed sulkily and again the glasses were filled.

"Gentlemen," Kammerman said, "and Mrs. Lubliner, I ask you to drink to a
great career just beginning."

"Lots of people said that before," Max murmured after he had emptied his
glass.

"They said it," Kammerman replied, "but I pledge it. You shall play no
more in this place, Volkovisk--and here is my hand on it."

Max Merech beamed across the table at his employer.

"Well, Mr. Lubliner," he said, "you lost your chance."

Elkan shrugged and smiled.

"Might you could find another of them genius fellers for me maybe, Max?"
he said.

And therewith Kammerman slapped Milton Jassy on the back.

"By Jove! We forgot your trio," he said. "Play it, Volkovisk, as your
valedictory here."

Again Volkovisk sought the piano, and after whispered instructions to
his assistants he began a rendition of Jassy's "Opus 47," from the
manuscript Milton had brought with him; but, allowing for the faulty
technic of the 'cellist and the uncertainty that attends the first
reading from manuscript of any composition, there was little to
recommend Jassy's work.

"Very creditable!" Kammerman said at the end of the movement. "Perhaps
we might hear the rest."

Max kept his eyes fixed on the table to avoid looking at Jassy, and even
Volkovisk seemed embarrassed as he swung round on the piano stool.

"Well?" he said inquiringly.

Jassy emitted a bitter laugh.

"That'll do, Volkovisk," he replied hoarsely. "I guess it needs
rehearsing."

At this point Max attempted to create a diversion.

"Look at that lady sitting there!" he said. "She puts on a yellow hat to
an old-gold dress. She's committing murder and she d