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THE FORTUNE HUNTER
twenties and at least one fifty。 Slowly； and with exaggerated care； Dippel
drew off a ten。 ‘‘There y'are； ol' dead beat；'' he said。 ‘‘I'll stake you a
ten。 Lots more where that came fromsoda…fountain counter's reg'lar
gol' mine。''
In taking off the ten； he dropped a twenty。 It fluttered to the floor and
the soldier of fortune； the scorner of toil and toilers； slid his foot over it as
swiftly and naturally as a true aristocrat always covers an opportunity to
get something somebody else has earned。 He put the ten in his pocket；
when Dippel's eyes closed he stooped and retrieved the twenty with
stealthand skill。 When the twenty was hidden； and the small but typical
operation in high finance was complete； he shook Dippel。 ‘‘I say； old
man；'' he said； ‘‘hadn't you better let me keep your money for you？ I'm
afraid you'll lose it。''
Dippel slowly unclosed one eye and gave him a look of glassy cunning。
He again drew the roll from his pocket； and； clasping it tightly in his fist；
waved it under Feuerstein's nose。 As he did it； he vented a drunken
chuckle。 ‘‘Soda fountain's gol' mine； Fishenspiel；'' he said thickly。 ‘‘No；
you don't！ I can watch my own roll。'' He winked and chuckled。
‘‘Sorry to disappoint you； Fishy；'' he went on； with a leer。 Then he
took off another ten and handed it to Feuerstein。 ‘‘Good fel'； Fishy；'' he
mumbled； ‘‘'f y' are a dead beat。''
Feuerstein added the ten to the thirty and ordered more whisky。
Dippel tried to doze； but he would not permit it。 ‘‘He mustn't sleep any
of it off；'' he thought。
When the whisky came Dippel shook himself together and started up。
‘‘G'…night；'' he said； trying to stand； look and talk straight。 ‘‘Don't f'rget；
y'owe me ten dollarsesno； two ten dollarses。''
‘‘Oh； sit down；'' coaxed Feuerstein； taking him by the arm。 ‘‘It's
early yet。''
Dippel shook him off with much dignity。 ‘‘Don' touch me！'' he
growled。 ‘‘I know what I'm 'bout。 I'm goin' home。'' Then to himself；
but aloud： ‘‘Dippy； you're too full f'r utteranceyou mus' shake this
beat。'' Again to Feuerstein：
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THE FORTUNE HUNTER
‘‘G'night； Mr。 Funkelshineg'night。 Sit there till I'm gone。''
Feuerstein rose to follow and Dippel struck at him。 The waiter seized
each by the shoulder and flung them through the swinging doors。 Dippel
fell in a heap on the sidewalk； but Feuerstein succeeded in keeping to his
feet。 He went to the assistance of Dippel。
‘‘Don't touch me；'' shouted Dippel。
‘‘Police！ Police！''
Feuerstein looked fearfully round； gave Dippel a kick and hurried
away。 When he glanced back from a safe distance Dippel was waving to
and fro on his wobbling legs； talking to a cabman。
‘‘Close…fisted devil；'' muttered Feuerstein。 ‘‘He couldn't forget his
money even when he was drunk。 What good is money to a brute like
him？'' And he gave a sniff of contempt for the vulgarity and meanness of
Dippel and his kind。
Early the next morning he established a modus vivendi with his
landlady by giving her ten dollars on account。 He had an elaborate
breakfast at Terrace Garden and went to Bloomingdale's； arriving at eleven
precisely。 Lena Ganser was already there； pretending to shop at a counter
in full view of the appointed place。 They went to Terrace Garden and sat
in the Stube。 He at once opened up his sudden romantic passion。 ‘‘All
night I have walked the streets；'' he said； ‘‘dreaming of you。'' When he
had fully informed her of the state of his love…maddened mind toward her；
he went on to his most congenial topichimself。
‘‘You have heard of the Freiherr von Feuerstein； the great soldier？'' he
asked her。
Lena had never heard of him。 But she did not know who was
German Emperor or even who was President of the United States。 She；
therefore； had to be extremely cautious。 She nodded assent。
‘‘My uncle；'' said Feuerstein impressively。 His eyes became
reflective。 ‘‘Strange！'' he exclaimed in tender accents； soliloquizing
‘‘strange where romance will lead us。 Instead of remaining at home； in
ease and luxury； here am Ian actora wanderer roaming the earth in
search of the heart that Heaven intended should be wedded to mine。'' He
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THE FORTUNE HUNTER
fixed his gaze upon Lena's fat face with the expression that had made
Hilda's soul fall down and worship。 ‘‘AndI have found it！'' He drew
in and expelled a vast breath。 ‘‘At last！ My soul is at rest。''
Lena tried to look serious in imitation of him； but that was not her way
of expressing emotion。 She made a brief struggle； then collapsed into her
own modea vain； delighted； giggling laugh。
‘‘Why do you smile？'' he asked sternly。 He revolted from this
discord to his symphony。
She sobered with a frightened； deprecating look。 ‘‘Don't mind me；''
she pleaded。 ‘‘Pa says I'm a fool。 I was laughing because I'm happy。
You're such a sweet； romantic dream of a man。''
Feuerstein was not particular either as to the quality or as to the source
of his vanity…food。 He accepted Lena's offering with a condescending
nod and smile。 They talked； or； rather； he talked and she listened and
giggled until lunch time。 As the room began to fill； they left and he
walked home with her。
‘‘You can come in；'' she said。 ‘‘Pa won't be home to lunch to…day and
ma lets me do as I please。''
The Gansers lived in East Eighty…first Street； in the regulation twenty…
five…foot brownstone house。 And within； also； it was of a familiar New
York type。 It was the home of the rich； vain ignoramus who has not
taste enough to know that those to whom he has trusted for taste have
shockingly betrayed him。 Ganser had begun as a teamster