"The girl is an orphan," Kapfer replied, "_aber_ she's got one uncle, a bachelor, which ain't got no relation in the world but her, and he's worth anyhow seventy-five thousand dollars."
"How do you know he's worth that much?" Polatkin demanded.
"Because I got some pretty close business dealings with him," Kapfer replied; "and not only do I know he's worth that much, but I guess you do too, Mr. Polatkin, on account his name is Julius Flixman."
"Julius Flixman?" Scheikowitz cried. "Why, Julius Flixman ain't got a relation in the world--he told me so himself."
"When did he told you that?" Kapfer asked.
"A couple of days ago," Scheikowitz replied.
"Then that accounts for it," Kapfer said. "A couple of days ago nobody knows he had a niece--not even Flixman himself didn't; but to-day yet he would know it and he would tell you so himself."
"But----" Scheikowitz began, when once again a page entered the room, bawling a phonetic imitation of Kapfer's name.
"Wanted at the 'phone," he called as he caught sight of Kapfer.
"Excuse me," Kapfer said. "I'll be right back."
He walked hurriedly out of the room, and Polatkin turned with a shrug to his partner.
"Well, Scheikowitz," he began, "what did I told you? We are up here on a fool's errand--ain't it?"
"I'll tell you, Polatkin," he said at length, "Flixman himself says to me he did got one sister living in Bessarabia, and he ain't heard from her in thirty years; and----"
At this juncture Kapfer rushed into the room.
"Scheikowitz," he gasped, "I just now got a telephone message from a lawyer on Center Street, by the name Goldenfein, I should come right down there. Flixman is taken sick suddenly and they find in his pocket my check and a duplicate receipt which he gives me, written on the hotel paper. Do me the favour and come with me."
Fifteen minutes later they stepped out of a taxicab in front of an old-fashioned office building in Center Street and elbowed their way through a crowd of over a hundred people toward the narrow doorway.
"Where do yous think you're going?" asked a policeman whose broad shoulders completely blocked the little entrance.
"We was telephoned for, on account a friend of ours by the name Flixman is taken sick here," Kapfer explained.