"I don't want you to confess a crime you haven't come to me about," said Loeb, adding with peculiar emphasis: "Of course, if we KNEW you were still married to the Mrs. Feuerstein of seven years ago we couldn't take the present case. As it is--the best way is to bluff the old brewer. He doesn't want publicity; neither do you. But you know he doesn't, and he doesn't know that you love quiet." "Ganser treated me infamously. He must sweat for it. I'm nothing if not a good hater." "No doubt," said Loeb dryly. "And you have rights which the law safeguards." "What shall I do?" "Leave that to us. How much do you want--how much damages?" "He ought to pay at least twenty-five thousand." Loeb shrugged his shoulders. "Ridiculous!" he said. "Possibly the five without the twenty. And how do you expect to pay us?" "I'm somewhat pressed just at the moment. But I thought"--Feuerstein halted. "That we'd take the case as a speculation? Well, to oblige an old client, we will. But you must agree to give us all we can get over and above five thousand--half what we get if it's below that." "Those are hard terms," remonstrated Feuerstein. The more he had thought on his case, the larger his expectations had become. "Very generous terms, in the circumstances. You can take it or leave it." "I can't do anything without you. I accept." "Very well." Loeb took up his pen, as if he were done with Feuerstein, but went on: "And you're SURE that the--the FORMER Mrs. Feuerstein is divorced--and won't turn up?" "Absolutely. She swore she'd never enter any country where I was." "Has she any friends who are likely to hear of this?" "She knew no one here." "All right. Go into the room to the left there. Mr. Travis or Mr. Gordon will take your statement of the facts--names, dates, all details. Good morning." Feuerstein went to Travis, small and sleek, smooth and sly. When Travis had done with him, he showed him out. "Call day after to-morrow," he said, "and when you come, ask for me. Mr. Loeb never bothers with these small cases." Travis reported to Loeb half an hour later, when Feuerstein's statement had been typewritten. Loeb read the statement through twice with great care. "Most complete, Mr. Travis," was his comment. "You've done a good piece of work." He sat silent, drumming noiselessly on the table with his stumpy, hairy, fat fingers. At last he began: "It ought to be worth at least twenty thousand. Do you know Ganser?" "Just a speaking acquaintance." "Excellent. What kind of a man is he?" "Stupid and ignorant, but not without a certain cunning. We can get at him all right, though. He's deadly afraid of social scandal. Wants to get into the German Club and become a howling swell. But he don't stand a chance, though he don't know it." "You'd better go to see him yourself," said Loeb. "I'll be glad to do it, Mr. Loeb. Isn't your man--this Feuerstein--a good bit to the queer?"