He led the protesting Shadchen through the lobby, and when they entered the Moorish Room an impressive scene awaited them. On a divan, beneath some elaborate plush draperies, sat Kent J. Goldenfein, flanked on each side by Polatkin and Scheikowitz respectively, while spread on the table in front of them were the drafts of Flixman's will and the engrossed, unsigned copy, together with such other formidable-looking documents as Goldenfein happened to find in his pockets. He rose majestically as Fischko entered and turned on him a beetling frown.
"Is this the fellow?" he demanded sepulchrally, and Kapfer nodded.
"Mr. Fischko," Goldenfein went on, "I am an officer of the Supreme Court and I have been retained to investigate the affairs of Mr. Julius Flixman."
"Say, lookyhere, Kapfer," Fischko cried. "What is all this?"
Kapfer drew forward a chair.
"Sit down, Fischko," he said, "and answer the questions that he is asking you."
"But——" Fischko began.
"Come, come, Mr. Fischko," Goldenfein boomed, "you are wasting our time here. Raise your right hand!"
Fischko glanced despairingly at Kapfer and then obeyed.
"Do you solemnly swear," said Goldenfein, who, besides being an attorney-at-law was also a notary public, "that the affidavit you will hereafter sign will be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"