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As for this chap, if he had got started right, he'd be operating up in the Fifth Avenue district. He used to have a wife. He SAYS he's divorced." Loeb and Travis looked each at the other significantly. "I see," said Travis. "Neither side wants scandal. Still, I think you're right, that Ganser's good for twenty thousand." "You can judge better after you've felt him," replied Loeb.
She opened the door a few inches and said through the crack: "It's me, Mr. Feuerstein Sophie Liebers from down in Avenue A Hilda's friend." "Come in," was Mr. Feuerstein's reply, in a weary voice, after a pause. From Ganser's he had come straight home and had been sitting there ever since, depressed, angry, perplexed. Sophie pushed the door wide and stood upon the threshold.
Ganser's mouth opened and shut slowly several times and his whiskers bristled. "Is this fellow telling the truth?" he asked Lena in a tone that made her shiver and shrink away from her husband. She began to cry. "He made me do it, pa," she whined. "Go to your mother," shouted Ganser, pointing his pudgy finger tremulously toward the door. "Move!" Lena, drying her eyes with her sleeve, fled.
"I want revenge." "Of course cash. Well, Ganser's a rich man. I should say he'd give up a good deal to get rid of YOU." Loeb gave that mirthless and mirth-strangling smile as he accented the "you." "He's got to give up!" said Feuerstein fiercely. "Slowly! Slowly!" Loeb leaned forward and looked into Feuerstein's face. "You mustn't forget."
"He was full the other night and he told one of our people he was married to a rich man's daughter." "Was the name Brauner?" asked Otto. "He didn't name any names. But let me think they say it's a daughter of a brewer, away up town. Yes, Ganser I think that was the name." "Oh!" Otto's face brightened. "Where is Ganser's place?" he asked. "I don't know look in the directory.
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