"But——" Scheikowitz began, when once again a page entered the room, bawling a phonetic imitation of Kapfer's name.
"Wanted at the 'phone," he called as he caught sight of Kapfer.
"Excuse me," Kapfer said. "I'll be right back."
He walked hurriedly out of the room, and Polatkin turned with a shrug to his partner.
"Well, Scheikowitz," he began, "what did I told you? We are up here on a fool's errand—ain't it?"
Scheikowitz made no reply.
"I'll tell you, Polatkin," he said at length, "Flixman himself says to me he did got one sister living in Bessarabia, and he ain't heard from her in thirty years; and——"
At this juncture Kapfer rushed into the room.
"Scheikowitz," he gasped, "I just now got a telephone message from a lawyer on Center Street, by the name Goldenfein, I should come right down there. Flixman is taken sick suddenly and they find in his pocket my check and a duplicate receipt which he gives me, written on the hotel paper. Do me the favour and come with me."
Fifteen minutes later they stepped out of a taxicab in front of an old-fashioned office building in Center Street and elbowed their way through a crowd of over a hundred people toward the narrow doorway.