“It’s a lie,” shouted Geltman springing to his feet, unable longer to contain himself. “It’s only thirty—and the stuff isn’t fit to drink.”
“Pray be calm. Don’t you know that if this was to get abroad, it would hurt your business?”
“My business—the business of Geltman and Company——”
“The business of Fehrenbach and Company,” interrupted Dr. Woolf sternly.
The unfortunate brewer with an effort contained himself. He knew that anger would avail him nothing. The only thing left was to listen patiently. He subsided again into his wicker chair and fastened his nervous gaze upon the distant horizon.
“It’s a pleasure to see you capable of self-control. If you can, I should like you to try and tell me how you happened to begin using the name of Geltman.”
How had he happened to use the name of Geltman!
“What would you say,” continued the Doctor, without awaiting the answer, “if I were to tell you that I was Christopher Columbus and that Captain Weckerly here was Francisco Pizarro or Hernandez Cortes? You’d say we were mistaken, wouldn’t you? Of course you would. When you say that you’re Geltman and we know you’re Fehrenbach——”
“Stop!” roared the unhappy brewer, springing to his feet. “Stop, for the love of Heaven, and let me off this floating madhouse!”