"I am trustworthy," replied Pinkus; "but I must have four hundred dollars, or this affair will fall through."
"How dare you say it will fall through? What do you know about it?"
"I know this much, that I can get four hundred dollars from the baron by telling him what I know," screamed Pinkus.
"You are a rascal! You are a traitor! Do you know who it is that you use thus? I can ruin your credit, and disgrace you in the eyes of all men of business."
"And I can show the baron what sort of a man you are," cried Pinkus, with equal vehemence.
At this the door opened, and Veitel plunged into the shadow of the staircase.
"I will give you till to-morrow to consider," were Pinkus's parting words.
Veitel coolly stepped into the office, and his patron hardly noticed him. He was pacing up and down the little room, like a wild beast in its cage, and exclaiming, "Just heavens! that this Pinkus should turn out such a traitor! He will blab the whole matter; he will ruin me!"
"Why should he ruin you?" asked Veitel, throwing his hat on the desk.
"What are you doing here? What have you overheard?"