Louis nodded and Trinkmann walked hurriedly to the store door. He threw it wide open, after the fashion of the lover in a Palais Royal farce who expects to find a prying maidservant at the keyhole.
Maikafer stood directly outside, but, far from being embarrassed by Trinkmann's sudden exit, he remained completely undisturbed and greeted the restaurateur with calm urbanity.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Trinkmann," he said, "ain't it a fine weather?"
Trinkmann choked in mingled rage and indignation, and before he could sufficiently compose himself to sort out an enunciable phrase from all the profanity that surged to his lips Maikafer had brought forward the man in the fur overcoat.
"This is my friend, Mr. Ringentaub," he said, "also in the restaurant business."
"I'm pleased to meet your acquaintance," Mr. Ringentaub said. "Before I got through talking with you on the 'phone this morning some one cut us off."
At this juncture Trinkmann's pent-up emotion found expression.
"Away from here," he bellowed, after he had uttered a highly coloured preamble, "away from here, the both of youse, before I call a policeman and make you arrested!"
"Excuse me, Mr. Trinkmann," Maikafer interrupted, "do you got a lease on the sidewalk, too?"
"Never mind what I got a lease on," Trinkmann said. "You are coming around here trying to steal away my waiters and——"