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?"

"No, Mr. Cohn, I do not. I'm the only crazy man talking. I'm crazy for
that vase and I've got to have it right away."

"You know vot dot vase costs?" Mr. B. Cohn's voice dripped syrup.

"No, and I don't give a hoot what it costs. I want what I want when I
want it. Do I get it?"

"Ve-ell, lemme see. Vot time iss it?" A silence while B. Cohn evidently
looked at his watch. "It iss now a quarter of seven, Mr. Eckstein, und
der nexd drain from Mill Valley don't leaf until eight o'clock. Dot vill
get me to San Francisco at eight-fifty--und I am dining mit friends und
haf just finished my soup."

"To hell with your soup. I want that blue vase."

"Vell, I tell you, Mr. Eckstein, if you got to have it, call up my head
salesman, Herman Joost, in der Chilton Apardments--Prospect
three--two--four--nine, und tell him I said he should come down right
avay qvick und sell you dot blue vase. Goodbye, Mr. Eckstein."

And B. Cohn hung up.

Instantly Peck called Prospect 3249 and asked for Herman Joost. Mr.
Joost's mother answered. She was desolated because Herman was not at
home, but vouchsafed the information that he was dining at the country
club. Which country club? She did not know. So Peck procured from the
hotel clerk a list of the country clubs in and around San Francisco and
started calling them up. At eight o'clock he was still being informed
that Mr. Juice was not a member, that Mr. Luce wasn't in, that Mr. Coos
had been dead three months and that Mr. Boos had played but eight holes
when he received a telegram calling him back to New York. At the other
clubs Mr. Joust was unknown.

"Licked," murmured Bill Peck, "but never let it be said that I didn't go
down fighting. I'm going to heave a brick through that show window, grab
the vase and run with it."

He engaged a taxicab and instructed the driver to wait for him at the
corner of Geary and Stockton Streets. Also, he borrowed from the
chauffeur a ball peen hammer. When he reached the art shop of B. Cohn,
however, a policeman was standing in the doorway, violating the general
orders of a policeman on duty by surreptitiously s