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Finsbury," he said aloud; and Michael, without rising, turned upon him a countenance somewhat flushed, encircled with the bush of the red whiskers, and bestridden by the spectacles. "Capriccio in B-flat on the departure of a friend," said he, continuing his noiseless evolutions. Indignation awoke in the mind of Pitman. "Those spectacles were to be mine," he cried.
The musician, ushered in, looked about him, an expression of bewildered and childish surprise on his rabbit-like face. "I am Schlichting," he murmured; "I come to play the B-flat trombone." "Glad to see you, Mr. Schlichting," said Average Jones, leading the way up-stairs. "Sit down." The visitor put his trombone down and shook his head with conviction. "It iss the same room, yes," he observed.
It must have been a signal to somebody pretty far off, or he wouldn't have chosen so loud an instrument as a B-flat trombone." "I can play the B-flat trombone louder as any man in the business," asserted Schlichting with proud conviction. "But what gets me," pursued Average Jones, "is the purpose of the signal. Whom was it for?" "I don't know nothing," said the other complacently.
"I don't know nothing only to play the B-flat trombone," repeated the other patiently. "Now, Schlichting," said Average Jones, "here is a dollar. Every evening you must come here. Whether I am here or not, there will be a dollar for you. Do you understand?" By way of answer the German reached down and listed his instrument to his lips. "No, not that," forbade Average Jones. "Put it down."
She was elegant in figure, handsome of face, had an amiable disposition, a ringing mezzo-soprano, with a compass from B-flat to G in altissimo, and was renowned for her brilliant execution, distinct enunciation, beautiful shake, happy memory for embellishments and fine expression.
The baritone had eaten something that did not agree with him, and he stopped playing and laid down in a life boat, the alto became cold around the extremities and quit playing and went to the smoke stack to warm himself, the b-flat began to perspire and quit playing and fanned himself with the cymbals, and all of the horn blowers were e-flat and b-flat on the deck in less than two minutes.
"And between times I'm to go skipping about, chasing long white whiskers and brass howitzers and B-flat trombones, I suppose." "Until you get your work systematized you'll have no time for skipping. Within six months, if you're not sandbagged or jailed on fake libel suits, you'll have a unique bibliography of swindles. Then I'll begin to come and buy your knowledge to keep my own columns clean."
"But it iss not the same gent, no." "You expected to find Mr. Ransom here?" "I don't know Mr. Ransom. I know only to play the B-flat trombone." "Mr. Ransom, the gentleman who employed you to play in the street in Brooklyn." Mr. Schlichting made large and expansive gestures. "It iss a pleasure to play for such a gent," he said warmly. "Two dollars a day." "You have played often in Kennard Street?"
He didn't understand that the vibration from his trombone on one particular note by the slide up the scale as in the chorus of Egypt would shiver that glass and set off the charge. All that he knew was to play the B-flat trombone and take his pay." "His pay?" The question leaped to the politician's lips. "Who paid him?" "A man named er Arbuthnot," drawled Average Jones.
"I want to know," drawled Average Jones, "how er-you planted the glass bulb er the sulphuric acid bulb, you know in the chair that you sent er to the Honorable William Linder, so that er it wouldn't be shattered by anything but the middle C note of a B-flat trombone?" The man sat down weakly and bowed his face in his hands. Presently he looked up. "I don't care," he said. "Come inside."
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