"Gentlemen," said the United States Commissioner as he sat behind his
shabby desk in the Post-office Building, "the prisoner is in the
marshal's office. Shall he be brought in?"

He addressed his question to Mr. Munjoy, who was seated between Henry D.
Feldman and Steuermann at one side of a huge table. Opposite them were
the clerk of the Russian Consulate and his counsel, who was obviously
nervous at the formidable appearance presented by the lawyer, Henry D.
Feldman.

The latter was about to pull off--as in his colloquial moments he
himself would have expressed it--a rotten trick on his fellow counsel;
for Abe and Morris had not informed either Mr. Munjoy or Mr. Steuermann
of the stirring scene in their showroom that morning. Instead, they had
called on Feldman, who, with the dramatic intuition of the effective
jury lawyer, saw an opportunity for a coup that would at once gain the
admiration and respect, if not the legal business, of Moses M.
Steuermann and procure Feldman a column and a half of publicity in next
day's paper. Hence he had sworn Abe and Morris to secrecy in
consideration of making no charge for his services, since he deemed the
accruing benefit to be worth at least two hundred dollars.

"Shall he be brought in, gentlemen?" the commissioner asked.

Counsel for the Russian Consulate bowed, as did Mr. Munjoy; but Henry D.
Feldman cleared his throat with a great rasping noise that penetrated to
the corridor without. This was the signal, and Abe and Morris entered
the room supporting the old Rabbi, who was followed by Pincus Levin.