"Glad to see you, Mr. Schlichting," said Average Jones, leading the
way up-stairs. "Sit down."

The visitor put his trombone down and shook his head with
conviction.

"It iss the same room, yes," he observed. "But it iss not the same
gent, no."

"You expected to find Mr. Ransom here?"

"I don't know Mr. Ransom. I know only to play the B-flat trombone."

"Mr. Ransom, the gentleman who employed you to play in the street in
Brooklyn."

Mr. Schlichting made large and expansive gestures. "It iss a
pleasure to play for such a gent," he said warmly. "Two dollars a
day."

"You have played often in Kennard Street?"

"I don't know Kennard Street. I know only to play the B-flat
trombone."

"Kennard Street. In Brooklyn. Where the fat gentleman told you to
stop, and fell out of the window."

A look of fear overspread the worn and innocent face.