"And then, Mawruss?" Abe asked.

"And then," Morris went on, "Geigermann shows the feller the fiddle,
y'understand, and if it is worth it _oder_ it isn't worth it the feller
says nothing to Geigermann, but he comes back and reports to us."

Abe nodded again.

"If I was to tell you all the weak points of that scheme, Mawruss," he
said, "I could stand here talking till my tongue dropped out yet. But
all I got to say is, Mawruss, the idee is yours, and you should go ahead
and carry it out. Me, I got nothing to say about it either one way or
the other."

* * * * *

At seven that evening, while Professor Ladislaw Wcelak was washing down
a late breakfast with a bottle of beer, there came a violent knocking at
the hall door. The professor answered it in person, for Aaron was busily
engaged over Concone's vocalizations in the front parlour and the other
members of the family were washing dishes in the rear.

"_Nu, Landsmann!_" Ladislaw cried. "Ain't you working to-night?"

The newcomer was none other than Emil Pilz, _Konzertmeister_ of the
Palace Theatre of Varieties, if that dignified term may be applied to
the first violin of an orchestra of twenty.

"I am and I ain't," Emil replied. "I've got a job, Louis, which it would