"And then," Morris went on, "Geigermann shows the feller the fiddle, y'understand, and if it is worth it oder it isn't worth it the feller says nothing to Geigermann, but he comes back and reports to us."
Abe nodded again.
"If I was to tell you all the weak points of that scheme, Mawruss," he said, "I could stand here talking till my tongue dropped out yet. But all I got to say is, Mawruss, the idee is yours, and you should go ahead and carry it out. Me, I got nothing to say about it either one way or the other."
At seven that evening, while Professor Ladislaw Wcelak was washing down a late breakfast with a bottle of beer, there came a violent knocking at the hall door. The professor answered it in person, for Aaron was busily engaged over Concone's vocalizations in the front parlour and the other members of the family were washing dishes in the rear.
"Nu, Landsmann!" Ladislaw cried. "Ain't you working to-night?"
The newcomer was none other than Emil Pilz, Konzertmeister of the Palace Theatre of Varieties, if that dignified term may be applied to the first violin of an orchestra of twenty.
"I am and I ain't," Emil replied. "I've got a job, Louis, which it would take me till nine o'clock, so be a good feller and substitute for me at the theayters till I am coming back."
"And who would substitute for me, Emil?" the professor asked.
"That's all right," Emil replied. "I stopped in on my way over and I seen old man Hubai. He ain't shikker yet, so I told him he should go over and fiddle a couple czardas till you come, and to tell the boss you got a Magenweh and would be a little late. Me, I am going uptown to look at a fiddle. I got the job through an old pupil, Milton Strauss, which he says a feller by the name Potash gives away a fiddle which he bought, and now he thinks it's a genuine Amati. So I should please go up and look at it; and if it is oder it isn't, I get ten dollars."