of all you collect," said he as he bent over and, pulling out a lower drawer, removed a bundle of soiled documents.

"Here they are.

My blessing to you!" Peters grabbed the transcripts and staggered down the stairs.

It took him less than ten minutes to find Mr.Simon Rosenheim, who was sitting inside a brass fence at a mahogany desk, smoking one of the best of his own cigars.
"Mr.Rosenheim," said Peters, "I have some judgments here against you, amounting to about three thousand dollars." "Yes ?" remarked Rosenheim politely.
"Can you let me have the money ?" inquired Peters.
"My dear fellow," retorted Rosenheim, with an oily sneer, "I owe the money all right, but I don't own a thing in the world.

Everything in this room belongs to my wife.