The Waterbury Democrat., 1937-08-07

and we had hardly gotten seated when who should gaily ap- pear but the man with the bellows blowing and chuckling over the good tidings he was bringing me.
 "The proprietor have send me to say to the American signor how that he knows the signor have set his heart on the bellows, and he cannot permit that he shall go back to his America disappointed 50 the bellows-it shall be to you only" naming sum equiva- lent to $8-and depositing the big, clumsy thing on the table before me.
 Comstock, Brandon and Henry were regarding me with sardonic grins-and I suspected them of se- cretly winking encouragement to my prosecutor.
 "Go away, nlan!" I growled, savagely. Never let me see your face again-nor that alarmed bel- lows, or therell be a new tragedy in Venice to horrify the world and and make a blood-curdling theme for future dramatists!"-and I pushed the bellows off the table with such violence that he had to jump to catch it before it reached the pavement.
 He retired with injured dignity, but speechless-and I felt that my firmness had finished the matter for good and all; but my aggravating companions had other views, and began betting among themselves as to the time that was likely to elapse before the salesman would complete the transaction.
 "He will never in the world sell that bellows to mel" I declared, with finality.
 Q yes, he will" said Comstock, Brandon and Henry, grinning. "It,s only a question of time when a mans heart is so set on a thing"
 Comstock fixed the time limit with the change of the tide. (There's a 2 foot tide in Venice) Henry guessed before sunset, and Brandon gave the salesman till midnight to complete the job.
 I vowed by all the saints-in- cluding the founder of Saint Ja- cob's Oil-that 1t would never happen. But a. the time had ar- rived for us to be going, we paid our reconning with g tip to the cafe waiter, crossed the Square and entered superb old St. Marks Cathedral.
 St. Marks, with its famous bronze horses and unique architec- ture, is as unlike any other church in the world as Venice is unlike any other city-and 1t is immense ly fascinating. Even the floor is unlike any other floor and you have to learn how to navigate 1t for 1t undulates like the waves of the sea. The finest marble was brought from Ravenna, from Sicily, from Byzanteum and the East, and the choicest mosaics from Constantinople-to build this noble temple of worship, and tomb of Christ's faithful friend and dis ciple, St. Mark.
 An usher led us to a desirable location in the center of the church so that Brandon and Hen- " sat in one pew and Comstock and I in the pew behind them I sitting next to the aisle. The dim light and solemn mystery of the place and the beautiful music had taken a strong hold on us when something happened to mar it all fol me for that occasion.
 Worshippers were constantly passing, and often kneeling in the aisle close to where I was sitting and along came one person wear ing a cloak, who first knelt right beside me and then to my surprise forced himself into our pew so that I had to move over and so did Comstock.
 At first he was quiet and l thought that perhaps 1t was his pew and we were the intruders, but there was something big and hard and sinister hidden under his cloak that hurt when he showed against me.
 Taking advantage of a loud or- gan interlude that made whisper-