“Can he turn a double somersault?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is one of his front teeth gone?”
“No, his teeth are all right.”
“Then I don’t know him. All the fellers I know has something the matter with ’em, or else they can do somethin’. I guess the feller you want has moved away.”
But Larry did not want to trust to any chances. He went to the next floor, and made inquiries without success. Then he proceeded to the third floor. At the last apartment where he knocked an old man came to the door.
“Vell, mine friendt?” he inquired, and Larry was beginning to think all the people in the house were German Jews. “Vat can I do for you to-day?”
“Do you know Peter Manton?” asked Larry.
“Peter vat?”
“Peter Manton.”