"What is the picture like, Mr. Morgan?" asks Silver. "It must be as big
as the side of the Flatiron Building."

"I'm afraid your art education is on the bum, Mr. Silver," says Morgan.
"The picture is 27 inches by 42; and it is called 'Love's Idle Hour.' It
represents a number of cloak models doing the two-step on the bank of a
purple river. The cablegram said it might have been brought to this
country. My collection will never be complete without that picture.
Well, so long, gents; us financiers must keep early hours."

Mr. Morgan and Klein went away together in a cab. Me and Silver talked
about how simple and unsuspecting great people was; and Silver said what
a shame it would be to try to rob a man like Mr. Morgan; and I said I
thought it would be rather imprudent, myself. Klein proposes a stroll
after dinner; and me and him and Silver walks down toward Seventh Avenue
to see the sights. Klein sees a pair of cuff links that instigate his
admiration in a pawnshop window, and we all go in while he buys 'em.

After we got back to the hotel and Klein had gone, Silver jumps at me
and waves his hands.

"Did you see it?" says he. "Did you see it, Billy?"

"What?" I asks.

"Why, that picture that Morgan wants. It's hanging in that pawnshop,
behind the desk. I didn't say anything because Klein was there. It's the
article sure as you live. The girls are as natural as paint can make
them, all measuring 36 and 25 and 42 skirts, if they had any skirts, and