"That's a two-room shed we rent for twenty dollars a month," Williams explained. "We have eight of them and they help considerably to pay our office rent over in New York."
"Sure I know," Scharley agreed, "aber, m-m-m-m!"
Once more he expanded his nostrils to catch a delicious fragrance that emanated from the little shack.
"Aber, who lives there?" he insisted, and Mr. Williams could not restrain a laugh.
"Why, it's that old lady with the wig that Lubliner brought over to the hotel the other night," he replied. "I thought I saw Sol Klinger telling you about it yesterday."
"He started to tell me something about it," Scharley said, "when Barney Gans butted in and wouldn't let him. What was it about this here old lady?"
"There isn't anything to it particularly," Williams replied, "excepting that it seemed a little strange to see an old lady in a shawl and one of those religious wigs in the Hanging Gardens, and there was something else Klinger told me about Mrs. Lubliner and the old lady talking about brown stewed fish sweet and——"
At this juncture Scharley snapped his fingers excitedly.
"Brown stewed fish sweet and sour!" he almost shouted. "I ain't smelled it since I was a boy already."
He wagged his head and again murmured, "M-m-m-m-m!"