of Wolfson's mind,
but just as pride goeth before a fall, ease is often the immediate
predecessor of discomfort.

Perhaps there is nothing more uncomfortable than to receive a glassful
of cold water in the back of the neck, and although Wolfson's neck
bulged over his celluloid collar so that none of the icy fluid went
down his back, the experience was far from agreeable. After the shock
had spent itself he turned around to find J. Daiches struggling in the
grasp of two husky waiters.

"Schwindler!" Daiches howled, as he was propelled violently toward the
door. "For all what I have done for you, you give me a piece from
glass."

"Wait a bit!" Wolfson cried. "What is that he says about a piece from
glass?"

But the waiters were too quick for him, and Daiches struck the car
tracks and bounded east on Grand Street, toward his place of business,
before Wolfson had an opportunity to question him.

Wolfson returned to his table without further appetite for his food.
Hastily and with trembling fingers he took from his wallet a
tissue-paper package wrapped after the fashion of a seidlitz powder.
This he opened and exposed five glittering gems, but it seemed now to
Wolfson that they possessed almost a spurious brilliancy. He glanced
around nervously and at a table in the rear of the room he espied
Sigmund Pollak, the pawnbroker, who could appraise a gem at a minute's
notice by virtue of his long experience with impecunious customers.

At a frenzied gesture from Wolfson, Pollak leisurely crossed the room.

"Hullo, Wolfson," he said, "what's the trouble now?"

"Nothing," Wolfson replied, "only I want it you should do me a favour
and look at these here diamonds."

Pollak examined them carefully.

"How much did you give for 'em?" he asked.

"I didn't give nothing for 'em," Wolfson replied. "I found 'em in a
safe what I bought it from a feller by the name Philip Borrochson, in
the jewellery business."

"Well," Pollak replied slowly, "you ain't made nothing by 'em and
Borrochson ain't lost nothing by 'em, because they ain't worth nothing.
They're just paste. In fact, there's a lot of that stuff around
nowadays. A feller by the name Daiches showed me one of 'em about half
an hour ago yet, and wants to sell it to me. I offered him a quarter
for it."

Pollak returned the paste gems to Wolfson, who tossed them into his
trousers-pocket with a nonchalance engendered of many years' poker
playing.

"Have a little something