al at present. What else I have is engaged
already in my new theatre. If you will be patient you shall have what
I can spare."

Bromberg rested both hairy fists on the desk and glared down at Puma.

"Who's this new guy you got to go in with you? What's the matter with
our getting a jag of his coin?"

"You mean Mr. Pawling?"

"Yeh. Who the hell is that duck what inks his whiskers?"

"A partner."

"Well, let him shove us ours then."

"You wish to ruin me?" inquired Puma placidly.

"Not while you're milkin'," said Sondheim, showing every yellow fang
in a grin.

"Then do not frighten Mr. Pawling out. Already you have scared my
other partner, Mr. Skidder, like there never was any rabbits scared.
You are foolish. If you are reasonable, I shall make money and you
shall have your share. If you are not, then there is no money to give
you."

Sondheim said: "Take a slant at them yellow-backs, Karl." And Kastner
screwed a powerful jeweller's glass into his eye and began a minute
examination of the orange-coloured treasury notes, to find out whether
they were marked bills.

Bromberg said heavily: "See here, Angelo, you gotta quit this damned
stalling! You gotta get them women out, and do it quick or we'll blow
your dirty barracks into the North River!"

Sondheim began to wag his soiled forefinger again.

"Yeh quit us cold when things was on the fritz. Now, yeh gotta pay. If
you wasn't nothing but a wop skunk yeh'd stand in with us. The way
you're fixed would help us all. But now yeh makin' money and yeh
scared o' yeh shadow!----"

Bromberg cut in: "And you'll be outside when the band starts playing.
Look what's doing all over the world! Every country is starting
something! You watch Berlin and Rosa Luxemburg and her bunch. Keep
your eye peeled, Angy, and see what we and the I. W. W. start in every
city of the country!"

Kastner, having satisfied himself that the bills had not been marked,
and pocketed his jeweller's glass, pushed back his lank blond hair.

"Yess," he said in his icy, incisive voice, "yoost vatch out already!
Dot crimson tide it iss rising the vorld all ofer! It shall drown
effery aristocrat, effery bourgeois, effery intellectual. It shall be
but a red flood ofer all the vorld vere noddings shall live only our
peoble off the proletariat!"

"And where the hell will you be then, Angelo?" sneered Bromberg. "By
God, we won't have to ask you for our share of your money then!"

Again Sondheim leane