"Yes," was the reply.
I was getting a trifle nettled.
"Well, where?" I queried.
"This is all very well, young Sir," said the Jew. "You come in here from nowhere, you introduce yourself as Meyer; you ask me 'Who?' and 'What?' and 'Where?'—questions that, mark you, in my business, may have valuable answers. We private enquiry agents must live, my dear sir, we must eat and drink like other men, and these are hard times, very hard times. I will ask you a question if I may. Meyer? Who is Meyer? Everybody in this country is called Meyer!"
I smiled at this bizarre speech.
"This Eichenholz, now," I said, "... supposing he were my brother."
"He might congratulate himself," Kore said, blinking his little lizard eyes.
"And he sent me word to call and see you to find out his whereabouts. You seem to like riddles, Herr Kore.... I will read you one!"
And I read him the message from Francis ... all but the first two lines.
The little Jew beamed with delight.