'A Bundist!' David pricked up his ears. From the bravest revolutionary party in Russia he could surely cull a recruit or two. 'Who is he?' The owl tried to look noble, producing only a twinkle of cunning. 'Oh, I can't betray him; after all, he's a brother-in-Israel. Not that he behaves as such, opposing our candidate for the Duma! Three hundred and thirteen roubles,' he told the telephone sternly. 'Not a kopeck more. Eh? What? He's rung off, the blood-sucker!' He rang him up again. David made a note of the number. 'But what have you Zionists to do with the Parliament in Russia?' he inquired of the owl. But the owl was haggling with the telephone. 'Three hundred and fifteen! What! Do you want to skin _me_, like your martins and sables?' 'You are busy,' interposed David, fretting at the waste of his day. 'I shall take the liberty of calling again.' A telephone-book soon betrayed the Bundist's shop, and David hurried off to enlist him. The shopkeeper proved, however, so corpulent and bovine that David's heart sank. But he began bluntly: 'I know you're a Bundist.' 'A what?' said the fur-dealer. David smiled. 'Oh, you needn't pretend with me; I'm a fighter myself.' He let a revolver peep out of his hip-pocket. 'Help! _Gewalt!_' cried the fur-dealer. A beardless youth came running out of the back room. David laughed. 'Herr Cantberg told me that you were a Bundist,' he explained to the shopkeeper. 'And I came to meet a kindred spirit. But I was warned Herr Cantberg is always wrong. Good-morning.' 'Stop!' cried the youth. 'Go in, Reb Yitzchok; let me deal with this fire-eater.' And as the corpulent man retired with an improbable alacrity, he continued gravely: 'This time Herr Cantberg was not more than a hundred versts from the truth.' David smiled. '_You_ are the Bundist.' 'Hush! Here I am the son-in-law. I study Talmud and eat _Kest_ (free food). What news from Warsaw?' 'I want both you and your father-in-law,' said David evasively--'his money and your muscles.' 'He gives no money to the Cause, save unwillingly what I squeeze out of Cantberg.' The youth permitted himself his first smile. 'When he deals with that bourgeois at the telephone, I always egg him on to stand out for more and more, and my profit is half the extra roubles we extort. But as for myself, my life, of course, is at the disposal of headquarters.' David was moved by this refreshing simplicity. He felt a little embarrassment in explaining that headquarters to him meant _Samooborona_, not Bund. The youth's countenance changed completely. 'Defend the Jews!' he cried contemptuously. 'What have we to do with the Jewish bourgeoisie?' 'The Bund is exclusively Jewish, is it not?'