lingering at the soda fountain, drew up a chair, picked up the
Staats-Zeitung, and lit a cheroot, while he waited for the advance
guard of the afternoon customers.

"I dare not go over to the 'Bavaria' until three o'clock," mused
the chemist. "It will never do to let Clayton see me with either
Irma or Lilienthal. Once hooked, though, I can give him plenty
of line, and play him, in the shadows of water too deep for him.
Einstein has given me a fair insight into his character and habits.
I must go and see Leah and take her that promised dress. I need
that boy, for he is true to Leah, his dam, and she at least loves
me as fondly yet as the dumb dog that licks the hand. The other one,
I can never rule that way. Never mind, you proud-hearted Hungarian
devil, I'll tame you yet." There was an ugly cloud on his broad
brow as he dreamed of a yet unshapen crime.

Fritz Braun, gliding out behind the high sample cases, swept the
morning's receipts out of the large bill compartment of the cash
drawer. "Seventy-five dollars. Not so bad," he grinned, as he
clutched the only thing on earth which he loved.

The crumpled, greasy green bills! Passed from hand to hand, as the
hard wage of toil, the prize of infamy, the badge of shame! Tossed
from the fingers of the spendthrift, dragged from the reluctant
miser, filched from yokel and rounder, slyly stolen by thieving
domestic or dishonest clerk, still the "long green" was as sacred
to Fritz Braun as Mahomet's emerald banner hanging over the pulpit
of magnificent Saint Sophia to the Moslem heart.

Magdal's Pharmacy was an innocent enough looking place of business.