Ersten wiped the foam from his bristling gray mustache.
"About that lease I have nothing to say," he told Johnny, fixing a stern eye upon him.

"I will not sell it." The other gentlemen of the party looked upon the stranger as an unforgivable interloper.
"I'm prepared to make you a very good offer for it," insisted Johnny.
"I have a better location for you, not half a block away, and I've taken an option on a long-time lease for it." The stolid boy removed the steins.

The three gentlemen poured the Glanzen Wasser into their wine.
"I will not sell the lease," announced Ersten with such calm finality that Johnny apologized for the intrusion and withdrew.

As he went out, Ersten and Kurzerhosen and Schoppenvoll, in blissful forgetfulness of him, raised their glasses for the first delicious sip of the Rheinthranen, of which there were only two hundred and eighty precious bottles left in the world.
Outside, Johnny hailed a passing taxi.

He called on Morton Washer, on Ben Courtney, on Colonel Bouncer, and even on Candy-King Slosher; but to no purpose.