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170 marks a day for this fellow, and he is conspicuous by his absence. Who will set up the damned machine for me?"

The machinist said he knew all about it. Diederich suddenly developed the utmost cordiality towards him. "I need hardly say I would rather pay you overtime than squander good money on a stranger. After all, you are an old employé." Napoleon Fischer raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. Diederich laid his hand on his shoulder. "Look here, my man," he said confidentially, "I don't mind telling you I am disappointed in this machine. It looked different in the pictures of the prospectus. The blades of the cutter were supposed to be much wider. Where is the greater efficiency which those people promised? What do you think? Do you think the drive is strong? I am afraid the stuff will stick half way." Napoleon Fischer looked at Diederich inquiringly, but he began to see what he was driving at. They would have to try it out, he said hesitatingly. Diederich avoided his glance, as he said encouragingly: "Well, all right. You will put the thing together, I will pay you an additional twentyfive per cent, for overtime, and for Heaven's sake, run some stuff through it at once. Then we'll see how it cuts."

"It will be a queer cut," said the mechanic, obviously seeking to conciliate Diederich, who seized his arm, before he realised what he was doing. Napoleon Fischer was his friend and saviour! "Come on, my good man"—his voice trembled with emotion. He took Napoleon Fischer into the house, and Frau Hessling had to pour him out a glass of wine. Without looking at him Diederich pressed fifty marks into his hand. "I rely on you, Fischer," he said. "The makers would take me in, if I hadn't you. I have already put two thousand marks into the rapacious pockets of those people."

"They will have to pay them back," said the machinist pleasantly. "You think that, too?" Diederich asked earnestly.

A day or two later, after having spent the lunch hour on the machine, Napoleon Fischer informed his employer that