Sinopsis

Joe Hornstog told me this story—the first part of it; the last part of it came to me in a way which proves how small the world is. Joe belongs to that conglomerate mass of heterogeneous nationalities found around the Golden Horn, whose ancestry is as difficult to trace as a gypsy's. He says he is a "Jew gentleman from ," but he can't prove it, and he knows he can't. There is no question about his being part Jew, and there is a strong probability of his being part German, and, strange to say, there is not the slightest doubt of his being part gentleman—in his own estimation; and I must say in mine, when I look back over an acquaintance covering many years and how completely my bank was at his disposal and how little of its contents he appropriated.