"So you must have better music in the jail," he exclaimed, rubbing his hands with satisfaction. "And you make Mr. Clarke buy the book. That is good; very good. But tell us about it, please, me and my son Herman."
"Yes; please tell papa and me," urged Herman.
"Why, is that what you want me for?" asked Joan Daisy and dutifully related exactly what she had done, not omitting the meeting in the automat.
The incident of the partnership purchase of the beef pie came completely out of the blue to the Elmens, father and son, and naturally delighted them, especially papa Max.
"Hah!" he ejaculated to son Herman in a tone of triumph which plainly clinched some argument adjourned between them. "Hah! What do you say now, Herman? Did I see it? What did I tell you?"
"You saw it, papa." Herman acknowledged defeat with satisfaction.
"Always tell me sooner, please," requested Max of Joan Daisy, in no spirit of reproach, but merely of appreciative caution, "whenever you see more of Mr. Clarke. Tell me at once whatever you do, whether or not it may seem to you to have bearing on the case. Believe me, everything has bearing. I beat Assistant State's Attorney Clarke or he beats me. That is all there is to guilt or innocence, to jail or freedom, to life or death."
"Not all!" objected Joan Daisy.
"Oh, I must have my helps," admitted Max. "Herman here; maybe Mr. Kleppman, too. Mr. Clarke has his helps—Mr. Ellison, it will be, or maybe another smart young man from the state's attorney's office. Also he will have the police and his witnesses. I," continued Max, leaning back and narrowing his heavy eyelids with
