drinks--sixty cents.''

Mr. Feuerstein laughed sardonically.

``Pay! Ha--ha! Always pay! Another drink, wretch, and I shall
pay for all--for all!'' He laughed, with much shaking of the
shoulders and rolling of the eyes.

When the waiter had disappeared he muttered: ``I can wait no
longer.'' He took the knife, held it at arm's length, blade
down. He turned his head to the left and closed his eyes. Then
with a sudden tremendous drive he sent the long, narrow blade
deep into his neck. The blood spurted out, his breath escaped
from between his lips with long, shuddering, subsiding hisses.
His body stiffened, collapsed, rolled to the floor.

Mr. Feuerstein was dead--with empty pockets and the drinks unpaid
for.



XI

MR. FEUERSTEIN'S CLIMAX

When Otto came to see Hilda that evening she was guiltily
effusive in her greeting and made up her mind that, as soon as
they were alone, she must tell him what she had all but done.
But first there was the game of pinochle which Otto must lose to
her father. As they sat at their game she was at the