Mr. Riley-Werkheimer walked past me to take a closer look at the seat, almost treading on my toes rather than to give an inch to me. "How can you prove that it's the genuine article?" he demanded curtly. "You have my word for it, sir," I said quietly. "Pish tush!" said he. Mr. Rocksworth turned in the direction of the banquet hall. "Carrie!" he shouted. "Come here a minute, will you?" "Don't shout like that, Orson," came back from the porcelain closet. "You almost made me drop this thing." "Well, drop it, and come on. This is important." I wiped the moisture from my brow and respectfully put my clenched fists into my pockets. A minute later, three females appeared on the scene, all of them dusting their hands and curling their noses in disgust. "I never saw such a dirty place," said the foremost, a large lady who couldn't, by any circumstance of fate, have been anybody's wife but Rocksworth's. "It's filthy! What do you want?" "I've bought this thing here for seventy-five. You said I couldn't get it for a nickle under a thousand. And say, this man tells me the hall seat here belonged to Pontius Pilate in--" "Pardon me," I interrupted, "I merely said that he sat in it. I am not trying to deceive you, sir." "And the treaty was signed on this table," said Mr. Riley-Werkheimer. He addressed himself to a plump young lady with a distorted bust and a twenty-two inch waist. "Maude, what do you know about the Roman-Teutonic treaty? We'll catch you now, my friend," he went on, turning to me. "My daughter is up in ancient history. She's an authority." Miss Maude appeared to be racking her brain. I undertook to assist her. "I mean the second treaty, after the fall of Nuremburg," I explained. "Oh," she said, instantly relieved. "Was it _really_ signed here, right here in this hall? Oh, Father! We _must_ have that table." "You are sure there was a treaty, Maude?" demanded her parent accusingly. "Certainly," she cried. "The Teutons ceded Alsace-Lorraine to--" "Pardon me once more," I cried, and this time I plead guilty to a blush, "you are thinking of the other treaty--the one at Metz, Miss Riley-Werkheimer. This, as you will recall, ante-dates that one by--oh, several years." "Thank you," she said, quite condescendingly. "I was confused for a moment. Of course, Father, I can't say that it was signed here or on this table as the young man says. I only know that there was a treaty. I do wish you'd come and see the fire-screen I've found--" "Let's get this out of our system first," said her father. "If you can show me statistics and the proper proof that this is the genuine table, young man, I'll--" "Pray rest easy, sir," I said. "We can take it up later on. The facts are--" "And this Pontius Pilate seat," interrupted Rocksworth, biting off the end of a fresh cigar. "What about it? Got a match?"