"It is a great deal, much more than I ever hoped for. You must continue the search."
"But where am I to search? We don't yet know where Müncz is, and even if we had him, who knows on which dust-heap the umbrella has rotted since then?"
"All the same, you must not lose the thread."
"Did you know the 'white Jew'?"
"Oh, yes; he was a very honest Jew, that is why he never got very rich. He often came to me; I can see him now, with his head bald at the back, and a fringe of white hair round it. 'Pon my word! (and here the lawyer skipped like a young lamb) the last time I saw him he had Pál Gregorics's umbrella in his hand; I can swear to it, and I remember I joked him about it. 'It seems to me, Jónás,' I said, 'that you wander about the next world, too, to buy "ole clo'," and bought that umbrella there of Pál Gregorics.' At which he smiled, and said he had not gone as far as that yet, for he only kept to the two counties of Zólyom and Hont, and had divided the neighboring counties among his sons; Móricz had Trencsin and Nyitra, Számi had Szepes and Liptó, and the youngest, Kóbi, had only last week been given Bars, but they none of them intended to go into the next world until they were obliged to."
Gyuri's eyes shone with delight.
"Bravo, Sztolarik!" he exclaimed, "only the gods had such memories as you have."
"You are a lucky fellow, Gyuri. I have an impression we are on the right track at last, and that you will find the money."
"I begin to think so too," answered Gyuri, who was in turns optimist or pessimist, as the occasion presented itself.
"But what can have become of old Müncz?"