Half an hour later there was being played one of those little scenes so familiar in Salamanderland, the secret of which may bring enlightenment to several fatuous self-made young men of the world. Mr. Harry Benson, a young gentleman of great future intelligence, now extremely avid of all the mysteries of a puzzling strata of the feminine world, was strutting contentedly in the presence of Miss Ida Summers and Miss Doré Baxter, the actress, friend of such howling swells as Judge Massingale and Garret Lindaberry. The two girls, with a perfect sense of values, were listening with accented indifference to his flow of self-exposition, which consisted in a narration of how many bottles he had consumed two nights before, how much money he had won at bridge, what he had paid for his socks, his cravats and the silk shirts which bore his initials, when there came a slight deferential scraping at the door, and at a quick summons, the figure of a diminutive Jewish pedler appeared, doubled under a pack, bowing convulsively, wreathed in smiles. He had been christened "Zip," a contraction of some unpronounceable name, and his motto was: "Zip buys or sells anythings!" He was a general intermediary for the Salamanders, disposing of every conceivable article when money had to be raised; and as he enjoyed this confidential intimacy with lively and pretty girls, he contented himself, good-humoredly, with no more than two hundred per cent. profit. "Oh, dear me, Zip," cried Ida instantly. "It's no use--come around some other day!" "Brought der shtockings," said Zip, in an untranslatable accent. "No money--I'm broke to-day! Next week." "I trust you!" said the pedler, advancing benignly, perfect comedian that he was, by a hundred such performances. "No, no!" said Ida firmly. "That's not my way! No bills; cash only!" Mr. Harry Benson, who had been on the point of indiscreetly offering a loan, bit his tongue, thoroughly convinced by her manner. "Oh, now, Mees Sumpers, beezness is beezness--ain't it right? I trust you!" said Zip, turning to one and the other with a look of the greatest dejection. "Next week--next week." Zip, during this preliminary canter, had slipped his pack to the ground and was uncovering the tarpaulin. "Bretty laties must have bretty tings; vot? All silk! Barkain! De most vonderful lincherie--feren frend shmuggles it through de coostom house. Sh'h dot's a secret! Look at dot hein?" "No, no; don't want to see a thing. Don't tempt me!" "Mees Baxter?" "Impossible," said Doré, laughing. "Bad month! I'm saving up for Christmas presents!" "Vell, it don't cost nottings to look, eh?" said Zip, suddenly bringing to light a mass of pink and white feminine lingerie. "Eef it don't embarrass de shentlemans?" "Come on! Let's have a look at them!" said Harry Benson, gorgeously excited at the idea of this devilish pastime.