"Sure!" Max Kirschner replied.
"Did your father once run a store under the opera house here?"
"That's right."
"And after he died the widder sells out to a man by the name Marcus Senft?"
"The same one," Max replied. "Why do you ask?"
"Because I bought out that feller, Marcus Senft," Sam replied, "and I got on my books yet debts which your mother sold to Senft for twenty-five cents on the dollar—and he sold to me for ten cents."
"I'll bet I know who owes 'em, too," Max commented.
"You could look 'em over if you want to," Sam said as they started to walk down the hilly lane from the depot to the main street.
"I will after I've washed up at the hotel," Max answered.
"Hotel?" Sam exclaimed. "What d'ye mean, hotel? You ain't going to no hotel. You're coming home with me. A feller von unsere Leute should come to Cyprus for a vacation and stay at a hotel! An idee!"