could deserve the title, this place did, for it was crowded with
engravings, paintings, bronzes, statuary, and every variety of ornament.
With delighted eyes and lingering steps he had passed slowly through
this store a few days previous in his search, but had received the
usual cool negative. He had gone reluctantly out into the cold street
again as Adam went out of Paradise.

A large florid-looking man with a light curling mustache now stood in
the doorway. His appearance was unmistakably that of a German of the
highest and most cultivated type. And yet, when he spoke, his English
was so good that you detected only a foreign accent. Strong vexation
was stamped upon his face as he looked at the snowy, untidy sidewalk.

"Mr. Schwartz," he asked of one of his clerks, "was Pat here this
morning?"

"Yes, sir."

"Was he perfectly straight?"

"I cannot say that he was, sir."

"He is off on a spree again. Send him to me the moment he returns."

"Shall I clear your sidewalk?" said Dennis, stepping up and touching
his hat respectfully.

"Yes," said the gentleman, scarcely looking at him; "and when you have
finished come to the office for your money;" and then he walked back
into the store with a frowning brow.