daughter when she gets married five thousand dollars a second mortgage,
understand me; and the most the _Chosan_ could expect is that some day
he forecloses the mortgage and gets a deficiency judgment against a
dummy bondsman which all his life he never got money enough to pay his
laundry bills even!"
"_Oser a Stueck!_" Rashkind protested. "He says to me, so sure as you are
sitting there, 'Mr. Rashkind,' he says, 'my dear friend,' he says,
'Birdie is my only _Tochter_. I ain't got no other one,' he says, '_Gott
sei Dank_,' he says; 'and the least I could do for her is five thousand
dollars cash,' he says, 'in a certified check,' he says, 'before the
feller goes under the _Chuppah_ at all.'"
"With a feller like B. Maslik," Polatkin commented, "it ain't necessary
for him to talk that way, Rashkind, because if he wants to get an
up-to-date business man for his daughter, understand me, he couldn't
expect the feller is going to take chances on an uncertified check
_oder_ a promissory note."
"That's all right, Mr. Polatkin," Rashkind said. "B. Maslik's promissory
note is just so good as his certified check, Mr. Polatkin. With that
feller I wouldn't want his promissory note even. His word in the
presence of a couple of bright, level-headed witnesses, which a lawyer
couldn't rattle 'em on the stand, _verstehst du_, would be good enough
for me, Mr. Polatkin. B. Maslik, y'understand, is absolutely good like
diamonds, Mr. Polatkin."
"All right," Polatkin said. "I'll speak to Elkan about it. He'll be back
from the road Saturday."
"Speak nothing," Rashkind cried excitedly. "Saturday would be too late.
Everybody is working on this here proposition, Mr. Polatkin. Because the
way property is so dead nowadays all the real estaters tries to be a
_Shadchen_, understand me; so if you wouldn't want Miss Maslik to slip
through Elkan's fingers, write him this afternoon yet. I got a fountain
pen right here."
As he spoke he produced a fountain pen of formidable dimensions and
handed it to Polatkin.
"I'll take the letter along with me and mail it," Rashkind continued as
Marcus made a preliminary flourish.
"Tell him," Rashkind went on, "that the girl is something which you
could really call beautiful."
"I wouldn't tell him nothing of the sort," Polatkin said, "because, in
the first place, what for a _Schreiber_ you think I am anyway? And, in
the second place, Rashkind, Elkan is so full of business, understand me,
if I would write him to come home on account this here Miss Maslik is
such a good-looker he wouldn't come at all."
Rashkind shrugged.
"Go ahead," he said. "Do it your own way."
For more than five minutes Polatkin indited his message to Elkan and at
last he inclosed it in an envelope.
"How would you spell Bridgetown?" he asked.
"Which Bridgetown?" Rashkind inquired--"Bridgetown, Pennsylvania, _oder_
Bridgetown, Illinois?"
"What difference does that make?" Polatkin demanded.
"About the spelling it don't make no difference," Rashkind replied.
"Bridgetown is spelt B-r-i-d-g-e-t-a-u-n, all the world over; _aber_ if
it's Bridgetown, Pennsylvania, that's a very funny quincidence, on
account I am just now talking to a feller which formerly keeps a store
there by the name Flixman."
"Do you mean Julius Flixman?" Marcus asked as he licked the envelope.
"That's the feller," Rashkind said with a sigh as he pocketed the letter
to Elkan. "It's a funny world, Mr. Polatkin. Him and me comes over
together in one steamer yet, thirty years ago; and to-day if that
feller's worth a cent he's worth fifty thousand dollars."
"Sure, I know," Marcus agreed; "and _Gott soll hueten_ you and I should
got what he's got it. He could drop down in the streets any moment,
Rashkind." Rashkind nodded as he rose to his feet.
"In a way, it's his own fault," he said, "because a feller which he
could afford to ride round in taxicabs yet ain't got no business walking
the streets in his condition. I told him this morning: 'Julius,' I says,
'if I was one of your heirs,' I says to him, 'I wouldn't want nothing
better as to see you hanging round the real-estate exchange, looking the
way you look!' And he says to me: 'Rashkind,' he says, 'there is a whole
lot worser things I could wish myself as you should be my heir,' he
says. 'On account,' he says, 'if a _Schlemiel_ like you would got a
relation which is going to leave you money, Rashkind,' he says, 'it
would be just your luck that the relation dies one day after you do,
even if you would live to be a hundred.'"
He walked toward the door and paused on the threshold.
"Yes, Mr. Polatkin," he concluded, "you could take it from me, if that
feller's got heart disease, Mr. Polatkin, it ain't from overworking it.
So I would ring you up to-morrow afternoon three o'clock and see if
Elkan's come yet."
"I'm agreeable," Polatkin declared; "only one thing I got to ask you:
you should keep your mouth shut to my partner, on account if he hears it
that I am bringing back Elkan from the road just for this here Miss
Maslik, understand me, he would never let me hear the end of it."
Rashkind made a reassuring gesture with his right arm after the fashion
of a swimmer who employs the overhand stroke.
"What have I got to do with your partner?" he said as he started for the
elevator. "If I meet him in the place, I am selling buttons and you
don't want to buy none. Ain't it?"
Polatkin nodded and turned to the examination of a pile of monthly
statements by way of dismissing the marriage broker. Moreover, he felt
impelled to devise some excuse for sending for Elkan, so that he might
have it pat upon the return from lunch of his partner, Philip
Scheikowitz, who at that precise moment was seated in the rear of
Wasserbauer's cafe, by the side of Charles Fischko.
"Yes, Mr. Scheikowitz," Fischko said, "if you would really got the
feller's interest in heart, understand me, you wouldn't wait till
Saturday at all. Write him to-day yet, because this proposition is
something which you could really call remarkable, on account most girls
which they got five thousand dollars dowries, Mr. Scheikowitz, ain't got
five-thousand-dollar faces; _aber_ this here Miss Maslik is something
which when you are paying seventy-five cents a seat on theaytre,
understand me, you don't see such an elegant-looking _Gesicht_. She's a
regular doll, Mr. Scheikowitz!"
"Sure, I know," Scheikowitz agreed; "that's the way it is with them
dolls, Fischko--takes a fortune already to dress 'em."
Fischko flapped the air indignantly with both hands.
"That's where you are making a big mistake," he declared. "The Masliks
got living in the house with 'em a girl which for years already she
makes all Miss Maslik's dresses and Mrs. Maslik's also. B. Maslik told
me so himself, Mr. Scheikowitz. He says to me: 'Fischko,' he says, 'my
Birdie is a girl which she ain't accustomed she should got a lot of
money spent on her,' he says; 'the five thousand dollars is practically
net,' he says, 'on account his expenses would be small.'"
"Is she a good cook?" Scheikowitz asked.
"A good cook!" Fischko cried. "Listen here to me, Mr. Scheikowitz. You
know that a _Shadchen_ eats sometimes in pretty swell houses. Ain't it?"
Scheikowitz nodded.
"Well, I am telling you, Mr. Scheikowitz, so sure as I am sitting here,
that I got in B. Maslik's last Tuesday a week ago already a piece of
plain everyday _gefuellte Hechte_, Mr. Scheikowitz, which honestly, if
you would go to Delmonico's _oder_ the Waldorfer, understand me, you
could pay as high as fifty cents for it, Mr. Scheikowitz, and it
wouldn't be--I am not saying better--but so good even as that there
_gefuellte Hechte_ which I got it by B. Maslik."
Scheikowitz nodded again.
"All right, Fischko," he said, "I will write the boy so soon as I get
back to the office yet; but one thing I must beg of you: don't say a
word about this to my partner, y'understand, because if he would hear
that I am bringing home Elkan from the road just on account of this
_Shidduch_ you are proposing, understand me, he would make my life
miserable."
Fischko shrugged his shoulders until his head nearly disappeared into
his chest.
"What would I talk to your partner for, Mr. Scheikowitz?" he said. "I am
looking to you in this here affair; so I would stop round the day after
to-morrow afternoon, Mr. Scheikowitz, and if your partner asks me
something a question, I would tell him I am selling thread _oder_
buttons."
"Make it buttons," Scheikowitz commented, as he rose to his feet;
"because we never buy buttons from nobody but the Prudential Button
Company."
On his way back to his office Scheikowitz pondered a variety of reasons
for writing Elkan to return, and he had tentatively adopted the most
extravagant one when, within a hundred feet of his business premises, he
encountered no less a personage than Julius Flixman.
"_Wie geht's_, Mr. Flixman?" he cried. "What brings you to New York?"
Flixman saluted Philip with a limp handclasp.
"I am living here now," he said. "I am giving up my store in Bridgetown
_schon_ six months ago already, on account I enjoyed such poor health
there. So I sold out to a young feller by the name Max Kapfer, which was
for years working by Paschalson, of Sarahcuse; and I am living here, as
I told you."
"With relations maybe?" Philip asked.
"_Yow_, relations!" Flixman replied. "I used to got one sister living in
Bessarabia, Mr. Scheikowitz, and I ain't heard from her in more as
thirty years, and I guess she is dead all right by this time. I am
living at a hotel which I could assure you the prices they soak me is
something terrible."
"And what are you doing round this neighborhood, Mr. Flixman?" Philip
continued by way of making conversation.
"I was just over to see a lawyer over on Center Street," Flixman
replied.
"A lawyer on Center Street!" Philip exclaimed. "A rich man like you
should got a lawyer on Wall Street, Mr. Flixman. Henry D. Feldman is our
lawyer, and----"
"Don't mention that sucker to me!" Flixman interrupted. "Actually the
feller is got the nerve to ask me a hundred dollars for drawing a will,
and this here feller on Center Street wants only fifty. I bet yer if I
would go round there to-morrow or the next day he takes twenty-five
even."
"But a will is something which is really important, Mr. Flixman."
"Not to me it ain't, Scheikowitz, because, while I couldn't take my
money with me, Scheikowitz, I ain't got no one to leave it to; so, if I
wouldn't make a will it goes to the state--ain't it?"
"Maybe," Philip commented.
"So I am leaving it to a Talmud Torah School, which it certainly don't
do no harm that all them young loafers over on the East Side should
learn a little _Loschen Hakodesch_. Ain't it?"
"Sure not," Philip said.
"Well," Flixman concluded as he took a firmer grasp on his cane
preparatory to departing, "that's the way it goes. If I would got
children to leave my money to I would say: 'Yes; give the lawyer a
hundred dollars.' But for a Talmud Torah School I would see 'em all dead
first before I would pay fifty even."
He nodded savagely in farewell and shuffled off down the street, while
Philip made his way toward the factory, with his half-formed excuse to
his partner now entirely forgotten.
He tried in vain to recall it when he entered his office a few minutes
later, but the sight of his partner spurred him to action and
immediately he devised a new and better plan.
"Marcus," he said, "write Elkan at once he should come back to the
store. I just seen Flixman on the street and he tells me he's got a
young feller by the name Karpfer _oder_ Kapfer now running his store;
and," he continued in an access of inspiration, "the stock is awful run
down there; so, if Elkan goes right back to Bridgetown with a line of
low-priced goods he could do a big business with Kapfer."
Polatkin had long since concocted what he had conceived to be a
perfectly good excuse for his letter, and he had intended to lend it
color by prefacing it with an abusive dissertation on "Wasting the Whole
Afternoon over Lunch"; but Scheikowitz' greeting completely disarmed
him. His jaw dropped and he gazed stupidly at his partner.
"What's the matter?" Scheikowitz cried. "Is it so strange we should
bring Elkan back here for the chance of doing some more business? Three
dollars carfare between here and Bridgetown wouldn't make or break us,
Polatkin."
"Sure! Sure!" Marcus said at last. "I would--now--write him as soon as I
get back from lunch."
"Write him right away!" Scheikowitz insisted; and, though Marcus had
breakfasted before seven that morning and it was then half-past two, he
turned to his desk without further parley. There, for the second time
that day, he penned a letter to Elkan; and, after exhibiting it to his
partner, he inclosed it in an addressed envelope. Two minutes later he
paused in front of Wasserbauer's cafe and, taking the missive from his
pocket, tore it into small pieces and cast it into the gutter.
* * * * *
"I suppose, Elkan, you are wondering why we wrote you to come home from
Bridgetown when you would be back on Saturday anyway," Scheikowitz began
as Elkan laid down his suitcase in the firm's office the following
afternoon.
"Naturally," Elkan replied. "I had an appointment for this morning to
see a feller there, which we could open maybe a good account; a feller
by the name Max Kapfer."
"Max Kapfer?" Polatkin and Scheikowitz exclaimed with one voice.
"That's what I said," Elkan repeated. "And in order I shouldn't lose the
chance I got him to promise he would come down here this afternoon yet
on a late train and we would pay his expenses."
"Do you mean Max Kapfer, the feller which took over Flixman's store?"
Polatkin asked.
"There's only one Max Kapfer in Bridgetown," Elkan replied, and Polatkin
immediately assumed a pose of righteous indignation.
"That's from yours an idee, Scheikowitz," he said. "Not only you make
the boy trouble to come back to the store, but we also got to give this
feller Kapfer his expenses yet."
"What are you kicking about?" Scheikowitz demanded. "You seemed
agreeable to the proposition yesterday."
"I got to seem agreeable," Polatkin retorted as he started for the door
of the factory, "otherwise it would be nothing but fight, fight, fight
_mit_ you, day in, day out."
He paused at the entrance and winked solemnly at Elkan.
"I am sick and tired of it," he concluded as he supplemented the wink
with a significant frown, and when he passed into the factory Elkan
followed him.
"What's the matter now?" Elkan asked anxiously.
"I want to speak to you a few words something," Polatkin began; but
before he could continue Scheikowitz entered the factory.
"Did you got your lunch on the train, Elkan?" Scheikowitz said;
"because, if not, come on out and we'll have a cup coffee together."
"Leave the boy alone, can't you?" Polatkin exclaimed.
"I'll go right out with you, Mr. Scheikowitz," Elkan said as he edged
away to the rear of the factory. "Go and put on your hat and I'll be
with you in a minute."
When Scheikowitz had reentered the office Elkan turned to Marcus
Polatkin.
"You ain't scrapping again," he said, "are you?"
"_Oser a Stueck_," Polatkin answered. "We are friendly like lambs; but
listen here to me, Elkan. I ain't got no time before he'll be back
again, so I'll tell you. As a matter of fact, it was me that wrote you
to come back, really. I got an elegant _Shidduch_ for you."
"_Shidduch!_" Elkan exclaimed. "For me?"
"Sure," Polatkin whispered. "A fine-looking girl by the name Birdie
Maslik, _mit_ five thousand dollars. Don't say nothing to Scheikowitz
about it."
"But," Elkan said, "I ain't looking for no _Shidduch_."
"S-ssh!" Polatkin hissed. "Her father is B. Maslik, the 'Pants King.'
To-morrow night you are going up to see her _mit_ Rashkind, the
_Shadchen_."
"What the devil you are talking about?" Elkan asked.
"Not a word," Polatkin whispered out of one corner of his mouth. "Here
comes Scheikowitz--and remember, don't say nothing to him about it.
Y'understand?"
Elkan nodded reluctantly as Scheikowitz reappeared from the office.
"_Nu_, Elkan," Scheikowitz demanded, "are you coming?"
"Right away," Elkan said, and together they proceeded downstairs.
"Well, Elkan," Scheikowitz began when they reached the sidewalk, "you
must think we was crazy to send for you just on account of this here
Kapfer. Ain't it?"
Elkan shrugged in reply.
"But, as a matter of fact," Scheikowitz continued, "Kapfer ain't got no
more to do with it than Elia Hanove; and, even though Polatkin would be
such a crank that I was afraid for my life to suggest a thing, it was my
idee you should come home, Elkan, because in a case like this delays is
dangerous."
"Mr. Scheikowitz," Elkan pleaded, "do me the favour and don't go beating
bushes round. What are you trying to drive into?"
"I am trying to drive into this, Elkan," Scheikowitz replied: "I have
got for you an elegant _Shidduch_."
"_Shidduch!_" Elkan exclaimed. "For me? Why, Mr. Scheikowitz, I don't
want no _Shidduch_ yet a while; and anyhow, Mr. Scheikowitz, if I would
get married I would be my own _Shadchen_."
"_Schmooes_, Elkan!" Scheikowitz exclaimed. "A feller which is his own
_Shadchen_ remains single all his life long."
"That suits me all right," Elkan commented as they reached
Wasserbauer's. "I would remain single _und fertig_."
"What d'ye mean, you would remain single?" Scheikowitz cried. "Is some
one willing to pay you five thousand dollars you should remain single,
Elkan? _Oser a Stueck_, Elkan; and, furthermore, this here Miss Birdie
Maslik is got such a face, Elkan, which, honest, if she wouldn't have a
cent to her name, understand me, you would say she is beautiful anyhow."
"Miss Birdie Maslik!" Elkan murmured.
"B. Maslik's a _Tochter_," Scheikowitz added; "and remember, Elkan,
don't breathe a word of this to Polatkin, otherwise he would never get
through talking about it. Moreover, you will go up to Maslik's house
to-morrow night with Charles Fischko, the _Shadchen_."
"Now listen here to me, Mr. Scheikowitz," Elkan protested. "I ain't
going nowheres with no _Shadchen_--and that's all there is to it."
"_Aber_, Elkan," Scheikowitz said, "this here Fischko ain't a _Shadchen_
exactly. He's really a real-estater, _aber_ real estate is so dead
nowadays the feller must got to make a living somehow; so it ain't like
you would be going somewheres _mit_ a _Shadchen_, Elkan. Actually you
are going somewheres _mit_ a real-estater. Ain't it?"
"It don't make no difference," Elkan answered stubbornly. "If I would go
and see a girl I would go alone, otherwise not at all. So, if you insist
on it I should go and see this here Miss Maslik to-morrow night, Mr.
Scheikowitz, I would do so, but not with Rashkind."
"Fischko," Scheikowitz interrupted.
"Fischko _oder_ Rashkind," Elkan said--"that's all there is to it. And
if I would get right back to the store I got just time to go up to the
Prince Clarence and meet Max Kapfer; so you would excuse me if I skip."
"Think it over Elkan," Scheikowitz called after him as Elkan left the
cafe, and three quarters of an hour later he entered Polatkin &
Scheikowitz' showroom accompanied by a fashionably attired young man.
"Mr. Polatkin," Elkan said, "shake hands with Mr. Kapfer."
"How do you do, Mr. Kapfer?" Polatkin cried. "This here is my partner,
Philip Scheikowitz."
"How do you do, Mr. Scheikowitz?" Kapfer said. "You are very
conveniently located here. Right in the heart of things, so to speak. I
see across the street is Bleimauer & Gittelmann. Them people was in to
see me last week already and offered me a big bargain in velvet suits,
but I was all stocked up along that line so I didn't hand them no
orders."
"Velvet suits ain't our specialty at all," Polatkin replied; "but I bet
yer if we never seen a velvet suit in all our lives, Mr. Kapfer, we
could work you up a line of velvet suits which would make them velvet
suits of Bleimauer & Gittelmann look like a bundle of rags."
"I don't doubt it," Kapfer rejoined; "but, as I said before, velvet
suits I am all stocked up in, as I couldn't afford to carry very many of
'em."
"That's all right," Polatkin said as he led the way to the showroom. "We
got a line of garments here, Mr. Kapfer, which includes all prices and
styles." He handed Max a large mild cigar as he spoke. "So let's see if
we couldn't suit you," he concluded.
For more than two hours Max Kapfer examined Polatkin & Scheikowitz'
sample line and made so judicious a selection of moderate-priced
garments that Polatkin could not forbear expressing his admiration,
albeit the total amount of the purchase was not large.
"You certainly got the right buying idee, Mr. Kapfer," he said. "Them
styles is really the best value we got."
"I know it," Kapfer agreed. "I was ten years with Paschalson, of
Sarahcuse, Mr. Polatkin, and what I don't know about a popular-price
line of ladies' ready-to-wear garments, underwear and millinery,
Paschalson couldn't learn me. But that ain't what I'm after, Mr.
Polatkin. I'd like to do some high-price business too. If I had the
capital I would improve my store building and put in new fixtures,
understand me, and I could increase my business seventy-five per cent
and carry a better class of goods too."
"Sure, I know," Polatkin said as they returned to the office. "Everybody
needs more capital, Mr. Kapfer. We ourselves could do with a few
thousand dollars more."
He looked significantly at Elkan, who colored slightly as he recognized
the allusion.
"I bet yer," Scheikowitz added fervently. "Five thousand dollars would
be welcome to us also." He nodded almost imperceptibly at Elkan, who
forthwith broke into a gentle perspiration.
"Five thousand was just the figure I was thinking of myself," Kapfer
said. "With five thousand dollars I could do wonders in Bridgetown, Mr.
Scheikowitz."
"I'm surprised Flixman don't help you out a bit," Elkan suggested by way
of changing the subject, and Kapfer emitted a mirthless laugh.
"That bloodsucker!" he said. "What, when I bought his store, Mr.
Scheikowitz, he took from me in part payment notes at two, four, and six
months; and, though I got the cash ready to pay him the last note,
which it falls due this week already, I asked him he should give me two
months an extension, on account I want to put in a few fixtures on the
second floor. Do you think that feller would do it? He's got a heart
like a rock, Mr. Polatkin; and any one which could get from him his
money must got to blast it out of him with dynamite yet."
Polatkin nodded solemnly.
"You couldn't tell me nothing about Flixman," he said as he offered
Kapfer a consolatory cigar. "It's wasting your lungs to talk about such
a feller at all; so let's go ahead and finish up this order, Mr. Kapfer,
and afterward Elkan would go uptown with you." He motioned Kapfer to a
seat and then looked at his watch. "I didn't got no idee it was so
late," he said. "Scheikowitz, do me the favor and go over Mr. Kapfer's
order with him while I give a look outside and see what's doing in the
shop."
As he walked toward the door he jerked his head sideways at Elkan, who a
moment later followed him into the factory.
"Listen, Elkan," he began. "While you and Scheikowitz was out for your
coffee, Rashkind rings me up and says you should meet him on the corner
of One Hundred and Twentieth Street and Lenox Avenue to-night--not
to-morrow night--at eight o'clock sure."
"But Kapfer ain't going back to Bridgetown to-night," Elkan protested.
"He told me so himself on account he is got still to buy underwear,
millinery and shoes."
"What is that our business?" Polatkin asked. "He's already bought from
us all he's going to; so, if he stays here, let them underwear and
millinery people entertain him. Blow him to dinner and that would be
plenty."
Once more Elkan shrugged despairingly.
"You didn't say nothing to Scheikowitz about it, did you?" Polatkin
inquired.
"Sure I didn't say nothing to him about it," Elkan said; "because----"
"Elkan," Scheikowitz called from the office, "Mr. Kapfer is waiting for
you."