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destination； chin jutting； eyes shining。 He was an American！
He might have continued on indefinitely had he not seen obliquely
a window filled with musical instruments。
Hawksley's fiddle！ He had all but forgotten。 All right。 If the
poor beggar wanted to scrape a fiddle； scrape it he should。 The
least he； Cutty； could do would be to accede to any and every whim
Hawksley expressed。 Wasn't he planning to rob the beggar of the
drums； happen they ever turned up？ But how the deuce to pick out
a fiddle which would have a tune in it？ Of all the hypercritical
duffers the fiddler was the worst。 Beside a fiddler of the first
rank the rich old maid with the poodle was a hail fellow well met。
Of course Gregor had taught the chap。 That meant he would know
instantly； just as his host would instantly observe the difference
between green glass and green beryl。
Cutty turned into the shop； infinitely amused。 Fiddles！ What next？
Having constituted a guardianship over Kitty； he was now playing
impressario to Hawksley。 As if he hadn't enough parts to play！
Wouldn't he be risking his life to…night trying to find where Stefani
Gregor was？ Fiddles！ Fiddles and emeralds！ What a choice old
hypocrite he was！
Fate has a way of telling you all about it … afterward； conceivably；
that humanity might continue to reproduce its species。 Otherwise
humanity would proceed to extinguish itself forthwith。 Thus； Cutty
was totally unaware upon entering the shop that he was about to tear
off its hinges the door he was so carefully bolting and latching and
padlocking between Kitty Conover and this duffer who wanted to fiddle
his way through convalescence。
Where there is fiddling there is generally dancing。 If it be not the
feet； then it will be the soul。
CHAPTER XVIII
There are some men who know a little about all things and a great
deal about many。 Such a man was Cutty。 But as he approached the
counter behind which stood an expectant clerk he felt for once that
he was in a far country。 There were fiddles and fiddles； just as
there were emeralds and emeralds。 Never again would he laugh over
the story of the man who thought Botticelli was a manufacturer of
spool thread。 He attacked the problem； however； like the
thoroughbred he was … frankly。
〃I want to buy a violin；〃 he began； knowing that in polite musical
circles the word fiddle was taboo。 〃I know absolutely nothing at
all about quality or price。 Understand； though； while you might be
able to fool me； you wouldn't fool the man I'm buying it for。 Now
what would you suggest？〃
The clerk … a salesman familiar with certain urban types； thinly
including the Fifth Avenue； which came in for talking…machine
records … recognized in this well…dressed； attractive elderly man
that which he designated the swell。 Hateful word； yes； but having
a perfectly legitimate niche； since in the minds of the hoi polloi
it nicely describes the differences between the poor gentleman and
the gentleman of leisure。 To proceed with the digression； to no one
is the word more hateful than to the individual to whom it is
applied。 Cutty would have blushed at the clerk's thought。
〃Perhaps I'd better get the proprietor；〃 was the clerk's suggestion。
〃Good idea；〃 Cutty agreed。 〃Take my card along with you。〃 This was
a Fifth Avenue shop； and Cutty knew there would be a Who's Who or a
Bradstreet somewhere about。
In the interim he inspected the case…lined walls。 Trombones。 He
chuckled。 Lucky that Hawksley's talent didn't extend in this
direction。 True； he himself collected drums； but he did not play
them。 Something odd about music； human beings had to have it； the
very lowest in the scale。 A universal magic。 He was himself very
fond of good music； but these days he fought shy of it； it had the
faculty of sweeping him back into the twenties and reincarnating
vanished dreams。
After a certain length of time； from the corner of his eye he saw
the clerk returning with the proprietor； the latter wearing an
amiable smile； which probably connoted a delving into the aforesaid
volumes of attainment and worth。 Cutty hoped this was so； as it
would obviate the necessity of going into details as to who he was
and what he had。
〃Your name is familiar to me；〃 began the proprietor。 〃You collect
antique drums。 My clerk tells me that you wish to purchase a good
violin。〃
〃Very good。 I have in my apartment rather a distinguished guest
who plays the violin for his own amusement。 He is ill and cannot
select for himself。 Now I know a little about music but nothing
about violins。〃
〃I suggest that I personally carry half a dozen instruments to your
apartment and let your guest try them。 How much is he willing to
pay？〃
〃Top price； I should say。 Shall I make a deposit？〃
〃If you don't mind。 Merely precautionary。 Half a dozen violins
will represent quite a sum of money； and taxicabs are unreliable
animals。 A thousand against accidents。 What time shall I call？〃
The proprietor's curiosity was stirred。 Musical celebrities； as he
had occasion to know； were always popping up in queer places。 Some
new star probably； whose violin had been broken and who did not
care to appear in public before the hour of his debut。
〃Three o'clock；〃 said Cutty。
〃Very well； sir。 I promise to bring the violins myself。〃
Cutty wrote out his check for a thousand and departed； the chuckle
still going on inside of him。 Versatile old codger； wasn't he？
Promptly at three the dealer arrived； his arms and his hands gripping
violin cases。 Cutty hurried to his assistance； accepted a part of
the load； and beckoned to the man to follow him。 The cases were
placed on the floor； and the dealer opened them； putting the rosin
on a single bow。
Hawksley； a fresh bandage on his head； his shoulders propped by
pillows； eyed the initial manoeuvres with frank amusement。
〃I say； you know； would you mind tuning them for me？ I'm not top
hole。〃
The dealer's eyebrows went up。 An Englishman？ Bewildered； he bent
to the trifling labour of tuning the violins。 Hawksley rejected the
first two instruments after thrumming the strings with his thumb。
He struck up a melody on the third but did not finish it。
〃My word！ If you have a violin there why not let me have it at once？〃
The dealer flushed。 〃Try this； sir。 But I do not promise you that
I shall sell it。〃
〃Ah！〃 Hawksley stretched out his hands to receive the instrument。
Of course Cutty had heard of Amati and Stradivari； master and pupil。
He knew that all famous violinists possessed instruments of these
schools； and that such violins were practically beyond the reach of
many。 Only through some great artist's death or misfortune did a
fine violin return to the marts。 But the rejected fiddles had
sounded musically enough for him and looked as if they were well up
in the society of select fiddles。 The fiddle Hawksley now held in
his hands was dull； almost black。 The maple neck was worn to a
shabby gray and the varnish had been sweated off the chin rest。
Hawksley laid his fingers on the strings and drew the bow with a
powerful flourishing sweep。 The rich； son