A few minutes later we went into the general restaurant and found
Signor Petroskinski waiting for us.

His right name was Jeff Mulligan, but Petroskinski sounded more
foreign, and he fell for it.

I introduced Skinski to Bunch, and in five minutes all the business
details were settled.

Skinski needed about $900 to pay for a couple of new illusions
which were being built for him, and Bunch was appointed a committee
to go down to Sixth Avenue and disburse the funds.

"I think we've got the real graft, don't you, Skinski?" I said,
after the luncheon had been ordered.

"It's a pipe!" Skinski replied in pure United States, much to
Bunch's surprise. From the name and the make-up I suppose Bunch
expected Skinski to yelp in Bulgarian or throw out signals in
Graeco-Roman.

Skinski was a warm member with the gab thing.

He got his start in life travelling with a medicine wagon in the
West, and what he didn't know about the show business wasn't
necessary.

"Say, people!" our star went on, "I've a couple of new card tricks
up my sleeve that will leave the Reubens gasping for air. And when
I pull my new illusion, entitled, 'Keno, or the Curious Cage,' on