"C?"
"P."
"Oh, yes, E. E-what?"
"C-K--"
"Oh, yes, Mr. Eckstein."
"Call Cohn to the 'phone or I'll go over there on the next boat and kill you, you damned idiot," shrieked Peck. "Tell him his store is on fire."
That message was evidently delivered for almost instantly Mr. B. Cohn was puffing and spluttering into the phone.
"Iss dot der fire marshal?" he managed to articulate.
"Listen, Mr. Cohn. Your store is not on fire, but I had to say so in order to get you to the telephone. I am Mr. Peck, a total stranger to you. You have a blue vase in your shop window on Geary Street in San Francisco. I want to buy it and I want to buy it before seven forty-five tonight. I want you to come across the bay and open the store and sell me that vase."
"Such a business! Vot you think I am? Crazy?"