forgetfulness of him, raised their glasses for the first delicious
sip of the Rheinthranen, of which there were only two hundred and
eighty precious bottles left in the world.

Outside, Johnny hailed a passing taxi. He called on Morton Washer,
on Ben Courtney, on Colonel Bouncer, and even on Candy-King Slosher;
but to no purpose. Finally he descended upon iron-hard Joe Close.

"Do you know anybody who knows Louis Ersten, the ladies' tailor?" he
asked almost automatically.

"Ersten?" replied Close unexpectedly. "I've quarreled with him for
thirty years. He banks with me."

"Start a quarrel for me," requested Johnny. "I've been down to look
him over. I can do business with him if he'll listen."

Close smiled.

"I doubt it," he rejoined. "Ersten has just lost the coat cutter who
helped him build up his business, and he's soured on everything in
the world but Schoppenvoll's and skat and Rheinthranen."

"Could I learn to play skat in about a day?" inquired Johnny.

"You have no German ancestors, have you?" retorted Close.

"No."

"Then you couldn't learn it in a thousand years!"