slapped for a bath-house again the other night. They lay you like a carpet, don't they?"
"Shut up!" Ike howls, covering his scalloped ears with his hands. "That vos my brother, not me! Oy, should I get my hands on Hershel, I'll"
"Hold everything!" I interrupt. "Listen, are you really in earnest about paying five hundred dollars for a way to make your brother stop advertising himself as Kid Rose?"
"In earnest?" says Ike. "Say, I must of been insane! You got a idea?"
"Positively!" I says. I speak several languages.
"Vell, I'll give you a hundred dollars for it, should it be good," says Ike after a minute. "But I vouldn't pay another nickel if you cry all over the place!"
That burnt me up.
"Look here, young feller me lad," I says. "I simply cannot do any heavy thinking for such a piffling sum as a hundred dollars. Really, that thrills me about as much as it thrills a deep-sea diver to step into a bath tub. But for five hundred"
Ike pulls a roll of bills from his pocket.
"Here, take the three hundred," he says. "I ain't nice to argue vit a lady. Vot's your scheme?"
"Five hundred dollars or I don't turn a wheel!" I says firmly.
"Oy, vot a voman!" moans Ike, handing over the
