to play in the street?"

"After a long time. He take me away to Brooklyn and tell me, 'When
you see the feet iss in the window you play hard!"'

There was a long pause. Then Average Jones asked casually:

"Did you ever notice a big easy chair here?"

"I do not notice nothing. I play my B-flat trombone."

And there his limitations were established. But the old lady had
something to add.

"It's all true that he said," she confirmed. "I could hear his
racket in the front room and Mr. Ransom working in the back and
then, after the old man was gone, Mr. Ransom sweeping up something
by himself."

"Sweeping? What--er--was he--er--sweeping?"

"Glass, I think. The girl used to find little slivers of it first
in one part of the room, then in another. I raised the rent for
that and for the racket."

"The next thing," said Average Jones, "is to find out where that big
easy chair went from here. Can you help me there?"

The old lady shook her head. "All I can do is to tell you the
near-by truck men."