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You're a frightful fakir and liar, Feuerstein. You were, seven years ago; of course, the habit's grown on you. Speak out! What do you want? As your lawyer, I must know things exactly as they are." "I ran away with a girl the daughter of the brewer, Peter Ganser," said Feuerstein, sullen but terse. "And her father wouldn't receive me shut her up put me out." "And you want your wife?"
Early the next morning he established a modus vivendi with his landlady by giving her ten dollars on account. He had an elaborate breakfast at Terrace Garden and went to Bloomingdale's, arriving at eleven precisely. Lena Ganser was already there, pretending to shop at a counter in full view of the appointed place. They went to Terrace Garden and sat in the Stube.
Windisch, say he can have you put out of court." And Peter bustled and slammed his way out. Beck telephoned Loeb, and they took lunch together. "Ganser has found out about Feuerstein's wife," was Beck's opening remark. Loeb drew his lip back over his teeth. "I wish I'd known it two hours sooner. I let Feuerstein have ten dollars more." "More?" "More. He's had ninety-five on account.
"Look at her standing there hugging his picture." Ganser scowled at his daughter and addressed himself to Hilda, "It's true, Miss," he said. "The man is a scoundrel. I sent my daughter to warn you." Hilda looked at him haughtily. "I don't know you," she said, "and I do know him. I don't know why you've come here to slander him. But I do know that I'd trust him against the whole world."
When sent to jail he became ill shortly before his trial was due and was sent to a hospital. There he seemed anxious, was shy, and gave slow answers, with initial lip motions and had to be urged to take hold of objects. All this sounds more like a pure depression than a stupor. But he also had paralogia. This might make one think of a Ganser reaction on the background of depression.
I relied on you to handle the brewer." "And we're out our expenses in getting ready for trial." "Well you'll send Ganser a heavy bill." Beck shook his head dismally. "That's the worst of it. He called me a swindler, said he'd show that you and I were in a conspiracy, and dared me to send him a bill. And in the circumstances I don't think I will."
"She is my lawful wife," said Feuerstein with an attempt at his pose. "Get the house aus quick! aus! gleich! Lump! I call the police!" "I demand my wife!" exclaimed Feuerstein. Ganser ran to the front door and opened it. "Out!" he shrieked. "If you don't, I have you taken in when the police come the block down. This is my house! Rindsvieh!"
Beck discovered that twenty thousand was his fighting limit. "Leave the matter entirely in our hands," said Beck. "We'll make the best bargain we can. But Feuerstein has shrewd lawyers none better. That man Loeb " Beck threw up his arms. "Of course," he continued, "I had to know your limit. I'll try to make the business as cheap for you as possible." "Put 'em off," said Ganser. "My Lena's sick."
"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.
Ganser had begun as a teamster for a brewery and had grown rapidly rich late in life. He happened to be elected president of a big Verein and so had got the notion that he was a person of importance and attainments beyond his fellows. Too coarse and narrow and ignorant to appreciate the elevated ideals of democracy, he reverted to the European vulgarities of rank and show.
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