“Come, what’s your advice?” demanded Dunk. “Did I pay too much?”

“I—er—perhaps you did,” admitted Ikey, slowly.

“Then fork over the balance.”

“And what about my cracker jar—for the ashes of dead ancestors?” asked Andy. “Was I stuck, too?”

“Oh, no, not at all. Why, that is a very rare piece.”

“What about that one in the window?” demanded Andy. “That’s only rare to the tune of several dollars less than I paid.”

“Oh, but you are mistaken!” Ikey assured him. “It takes an expert to tell the difference. You can ask Hashmi——”

“Hashmi be hanged!” cried Dunk, giving the captured one a shake. A little crowd had gathered in the street to see the fun.

“I—I’ll give you whatever you think is right,” promised Ikey. “Only let me go. I shall be late.”

“The late Mr. Stein,” laughed Andy.