account, for the 'big customers.' Yes, and a drop of good old
cognac, too.

"There's often a bit of fun behind the ground glass partitions.
I've scraped a little eye hole."

"You are your sly mother's own darling imp," growled Braun, bringing
out his pocketbook. "She was the devil's own, too, before she got
old and lost her good looks," he sighed.

"Tell me," said he, selecting a note with grave deliberation, "how
much did Clayton deposit to-day?"

"Only thirty-eight thousand," contemptuously answered the boy, as
he clutched the note now held out to him. "Sometimes it's a round
hundred thousand," continued Emil, eager to show off his knowledge,
"and on the annual settlements, July 1 to 4th, last year we put
in two hundred thousand into the Astor Place. That's our biggest
monthly settlement. I always help Mr. Clayton pack it up, in his
own room, after he verifies the accountant's tabs."

Fritz Braun suddenly awoke from a reverie. "Get out of here now, and
see that you post me on all that this Clayton is up to at night,
on his Sundays and vacations. I'll give you a third twenty for
the two keys. I may want to take a look at his rooms some Sunday
when you are sporting out of town.

"And watch the spotters, too! You might do a good turn in pocket
money by posting him, but only as I tell you, mind that! Now, don't
go to the devil too fast. Do you ever give your mother any money?"