The vintner read it, his brows drawn together in a puzzled frown.

He turned the slip over carelessly.

The sub-chief's eyes bored into him like gimlets.
"I can make nothing of this, Herr.

When I cut this out of the paper it was to preserve the notice on the other side." The vintner returned the cutting.
The sub-chief read aloud: "Vintners and presses and pruners wanted for the season.

Find and liberal compensation.