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He looked at Feuerstein with a cynical, contemptuous smile in his eyes. "Mr. Loeb asks me to tell you," he said, "with his compliments, that you are a bigamist and a swindler, and that if you ever show your face here again he'll have you locked up." Feuerstein staggered and paled there was no staginess in his manner. Then without a word he slunk away.
Ganser," said Travis with deference. "As you know, I am with Loeb, Lynn, Levy and McCafferty. Our client, Mr. Feuerstein " Ganser leaped to his feet, apoplectic. "Get out!" he shouted, "I don't speak with you!" "As an officer of the court, Mr. Ganser," said Travis suavely, "it is my painful duty to insist upon a hearing. We lawyers can't select our clients. We must do our best for all comers.
"I'll be glad to do it, Mr. Loeb. Isn't your man this Feuerstein a good bit to the queer?" "A dead beat one of the worst kind the born gentleman. You've noticed, perhaps, that where a man or woman has been brought up to live without work, to live off other people's work, there's nothing they wouldn't stoop to, to keep on living that way.
Don't forget!" And again he winked and waggled his thumb in the direction of the penitentiary. Feuerstein went to his lodgings, put on all the clothes he could wear without danger of attracting his landlady's attention, filled his pockets and the crown of his hat with small articles, and fled to Hoboken.
"But I'll take the responsibility of delaying it can't make Feuerstein any less married, and your daughter's certainly safe in her father's care. I'll wait in the hope that YOU'LL take the first step." Ganser lost no time in going to his own lawyers Fisher, Windisch and Carteret, in the Postal Telegraph Building. He told Windisch the whole story.
"I know you are, Otto," she replied with tears in her eyes. "You are indeed my friend. I've counted on you ever since you ever since that Sunday." "Then you won't think wrong of me if I ask you a question? You'll know I wouldn't, if I didn't have a good reason, even though I can't explain?" "Yes what is it?" "Hilda, is is Mr. Feuerstein coming back?" Hilda flushed. "Yes, Otto," she said.
Feuerstein thrilled and his eyes grew eloquent as he noted tens and twenties and at least one fifty. Slowly, and with exaggerated care, Dippel drew off a ten. "There y'are, ol' dead beat," he said. "I'll stake you a ten. Lots more where that came from soda-fountain counter's reg'lar gol' mine." In taking off the ten, he dropped a twenty.
Feuerstein became a sickly white. When she had disappeared, Ganser looked at him with cruel little eyes that sparkled. Feuerstein quailed. It was full half a minute before Ganser spoke. Then he went up to Feuerstein, stood on tiptoe and, waving his arms frantically above his head, yelled into his face "Rindsvieh!" as contemptuous an insult as one German can fling at another.
Feuerstein caught up his soft hat from the hall table and hurried out. As he passed, Ganser tried to kick him but failed ludicrously because his short, thick leg would not reach. At the bottom of the steps Feuerstein turned and waved his fists wildly. Ganser waved his fists at Feuerstein and, shaking his head so violently that his hanging cheeks flapped back and forth, bellowed: "Rindsvieh!
And on the third day they had reached Otto's mother. Not a detail was lacking even the scene between Hilda and her father was one of the several startling climaxes of the tale. Mrs. Heilig had been bitterly resentful of Hilda's treatment of her son, and she accepted the story it was in such perfect harmony with her expectations from the moment she heard of Mr. Feuerstein.
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