became the dignified
advocate.

"That is not the only objection to title, Mr. Goldstein," he said. "Mr.
Jones, kindly read the detailed objections contained in your report of
closing."

Mr. Jones nodded again and responded to Feldman's demand in a voice
that profoundly justified the size of his larynx.

"Description in deed dated January 1, 1783," he began, "from Joost van
Gend to William Wauters, is defective; one course reading 'thence along
said ditch north to a white-oak tree' should be 'south to a white-oak
tree.'"

"Well, what's the difference?" Goldstein interrupted. "It's monumented
by the white-oak tree."

"That was cut down long ago," Mr. Jones said.

"Not by me!" Glaubmann declared. "I give you my word, gentlemen, the
trees on the lot is the same like I bought it."

Feldman allowed his eyes to rest for a moment on the protesting
Glaubmann, who literally crumpled in his chair.

"Proceed, Mr. Jones," Feldman said to the title company's
representative, who continued without further interruption to the end of
his list. This included all the technical objections which Glaubmann had
feared, as well as a novel and interesting point concerning a partition
suit in Chancery, brought in 1819, and affecting Glaubmann's chain of
title to a strip in the rear of his lot, measuring one quarter of an
inch in breadth by seven feet in length.

"So far as I can see, Feldman," Goldstein commented as Mr. Jones laid
down his report, "the only objection that will hold water is the one
concerning Max Kovner's tenancy. As a matter of fact, I have witnesses
to show that Kovner has always claimed that he didn't hold a lease."

For answer, Feldman touched the button of an electric bell.

"Show in Mr. and Mrs. Kovner," he said to the boy who responded. "We'll
let them speak for themselves."

This, it would appear, they were more than willing to do; for as soon as
they entered the room and caught sight of Glaubmann, who by this time
was fairly cowering in his chair, they immediately began a concerted
tirade that was only ended when Goldstein banged vigorously on the
library table, using as a gavel one of Feldman's metal-tipped rulers.

"That'll do, Goldstein!" Feldman said hoarsely. "I think I can preserve
order in my own office."

"Why don't you then?" Goldstein retorted, as he leaned back in his chair
and regarded with a malicious smile the damage he had wrought.

"Yes, Mr. Glaubmann," Kovner began anew, "you thought y