was the best mood in
which to conduct an argument about money.

"We'll send you your bill," said Beck, in a huge, calm rage against
this dull man who had outwitted him. "If you wish to make a scene,
will you kindly go elsewhere?"

"I want to pay you off--right away quick. I think you and Loeb in
cahoots. My detective, he says you both must have known about
Feuerstein. He says you two were partners and knew his record. I'll
expose you, if you don't settle now. Give me my bill."

"It is impossible." Beck's tone was mild and persuasive. "All the
items are not in."

Ganser took out a roll of notes. "I pay you five hundred dollars.
Take it or fight. I want a full receipt. I discharge you now."

"My dear sir, we do not give our services for any such sum as that."

"Yes you do. And you don't get a cent more. If I go out of here
without my full receipt, I fight. I expose you, you swindler."

Peter was shouting at the top of his lusty lungs. Beck wrote a receipt
and handed it to him. Peter read it and handed it back. "I'm not as
big a fool as I look," he said. "That ain't a full receipt."

Beck wrote again. "Anything to get you out of the office," he said, as
he tossed the five hundred dollars into a drawer. "And when your
family gets you into trouble again--"

Peter snorted. "Shut up!" he shouted, banging his fist on the desk.
"And don't you tell the papers. If anything come out, I expose you.
My lawyer, Mr. Windisch, say he can have you put out of court." And
Peter bustled and slammed his way out.

Beck telephoned Loeb, and they took lunch together. "Ganser has found
out about Feuerstein's wife," was Beck's opening remark.

Loeb drew his lip back over his teeth.

"I wish I'd known it two hours sooner. I let Feuerstein have ten
dollars more."

"More?"

"More. He's had ninety-five on account. I relied on you to handle the
brewer."

"And we're out our expenses in getting ready for trial."

"Well--you'll send Ganser a heavy bill."

Beck shook his head dismally. "That's the worst of it. He called me a
swindler, said he'd show that you and I were in a conspiracy, and dared
me to send him a bill. And in the circumstances I don't think I will."

Loeb gave Beck a long and searching look which Beck bore without
flinching.

"No, I don't think you will send him a bill," said Loeb slowly. "But
how much did he pay you?"

"Not a cent--nothing but insults."

Loeb finished his luncheon in