it, he gave final expression to his emotions of friendship and
gratitude in the worst coughing-spell of his asthmatic career.
CHAPTER TWO
OPPORTUNITY
"What is brokers?" Mr. Marcus Shimko asked. "A broker is no good,
otherwise he wouldn't be a broker. Brokers is fellers which they
couldn't make a success of their own affairs, Mr. Zamp, so they butt
into everybody else's. Particularly business brokers, Mr. Zamp.
Real-estate brokers is bad enough, and insurings brokers is a lot of
sharks also; but for a cutthroat, a low-life bum, understand me, the
worst is a business broker!"
"That's all right, too, Mr. Shimko," Harry Zamp said timidly; "but if I
would get a partner with say, for example, five hundred dollars, I
could make a go of this here business."
Mr. Shimko nodded skeptically.
"I ain't saying you couldn't," he agreed, "but where would you find
such a partner? Nowadays a feller with five hundred dollars don't think
of going into retail business no more. The least he expects is he
should go right away into manufacturing. Jobbing and retailing is nix
for such a feller, understand me--especially clothing, Mr. Zamp, which
nowadays even drug stores carries retail clothing as a side line, so
cut up the business is."
Harry Zamp nodded gloomily.
"And, furthermore," Shimko added, "business brokers could no more get
you a partner with money as they could do miracles, Mr. Zamp. Them days
is past, Mr. Zamp, and all a business broker could do nowadays is to
bring you a feller with experience, and you don't need a business
broker for _that_, Mr. Zamp. Experience in the retail clothing business
is like the measles. Everybody has had it."
"Then what should I do, Mr. Shimko?" Zamp asked helplessly. "I must got
to get a partner with money somewhere, ain't it? And if I wouldn't go
to a business broker, who then would I go to? A bartender?"
"Never mind!" Mr. Shimko exclaimed. "Some people got an idee all
bartenders is bums, but wunst in a while a feller could get from a
bartender an advice also. I got working for me wunst in my place down
on Park Row a feller by the name Klinkowitz, which he is now manager of
the Olympic Gardens on Rivington Street; and if I would have took that
feller's advice, Mr. Zamp, instead I am worth now my tens of thousands
I would got hundreds of thousands already. 'When you see a feller is
going down and out, Mr. Shimko,' he always says to me, 'don't show him
no mercy at all. If you set 'em up for a live one, Mr. Shimko,' he
says, 'he would anyhow buy a couple of rounds; but a dead one, Mr.
Shimko,' he says, 'if you show him the least little encouragement,
understand me, the least that happens you is he gets away with the
whole lunch-counter.' Am I right or wrong?"
Mr. Zamp nodded. He resented the imputation that he was a dead one, but
he felt bound to agree with Mr. Shimko, in view of the circumstance
that on the following day he would owe a month's rent with small
prospect of being able to pay it. Indeed, he wondered at Mr. Shimko's
amiability, for as owner of the Canal Street premises Shimko had the
reputation of being a harsh landlord. Had Zamp but known it, however,
store property on Canal Street was not in active demand of late, by
reason of the new bridge improvements, and Shimko's amiability
proceeded from a desire to retain Zamp as a tenant if the latter's
solvency could be preserved.
"But I couldn't help myself, Mr. Zamp," Shimko went on. "I got no
business keeping a restaurant at all."
As a matter of fact, Mr. Shimko's late restaurant was of the variety
popularly designated as a "barrel-house," and he had only retired from
the business after his license had been revoked.
"Yes, Mr. Zamp," Shimko continued; "in a business like that a feller
shouldn't got a heart at all. But I am very funny that way. I couldn't
bear to see nobody suffer, understand me, and everybody takes advantage
of me on account of it. So I tell you what I would do. My wife got a
sort of a relation by the name Miss Babette Schick, which she works for
years by a big cloak and suit concern as a designer. She ain't so young
no longer, but she got put away in savings bank a couple of thousand
dollars, and she is engaged to be married to a young feller by the name
Isaac Meiselson, which nobody could tell what he does for a living at
all. One thing is certain--with the money this Meiselson gets with Miss
Schick he could go as partners together with you, and pull you out of
the hole, ain't it?"
Mr. Zamp nodded again, without enthusiasm.
"Sure, I know, Mr. Shimko," he said; "but if a young feller would got
two thousand dollars to invest in a business, y'understand, why should
he come to me? If he would only got five hundred dollars, Mr. Shimko,
that would be something else again. But with so much as two thousand
dollars a feller could get lots of clothing businesses which they run a
big store with a couple of cutters, a half a dozen salesmen, and a
bookkeeper. What have I got to offer him for two thousand dollars? Me,
I am salesman, cutter, bookkeeper, and everything; and if this feller
comes in here and sees me alone in the place, with no customers nor
nothing, he gets an idee it's a dead proposition. Ain't it?"
Shimko pulled out a full cigar-case, whereat Zamp's eye kindled, and he
licked his lips in anticipation; but after Shimko had selected a dark
perfecto, he closed the case deliberately and replaced it in his
breast-pocket.
"A business man must got to got gumption," he said to the disappointed
Zamp; "and if you think you could got a partner just by bringing him
into the store here, and showing him the stock and fixtures which you
got it, you are making a big mistake."
"Well, of course I am expecting I should blow him to dinner maybe,"
Zamp protested, "with a theayter also."
Shimko evidenced his disgust by puffing vigorously at his cigar.
"You are just like a whole lot of other people, Zamp," he said. "You
are always willing to spend money before you make it. Meiselson comes
in here and sees you only got a small stock of piece goods, understand
me, and you couldn't afford to keep no help, and then, on the top of
that yet, you would take him out and blow him. Naturally he right away
gets the idee you are spending your money foolishly, instead of putting
it into your business, and the whole thing is off."
Zamp shrugged impotently.
"What could I do, Mr. Shimko?" he asked. "I got here a small stock of
goods, I know, but that's just the reason why I want a partner."
"And that's just the reason why you wouldn't get one," Shimko declared.
"A small stock of piece goods you couldn't help, Zamp; but if you let
that feller come into your store and find you ain't got no cutters or
customers, that's your own fault."
"What d'ye mean, Mr. Shimko?" Zamp demanded.
"I mean this," Shimko explained. "If I would got a store like you got
it here, Zamp, and a friend offers to bring me a feller with a couple
thousand dollars for a partner, understand me, I would go to work,
y'understand, and get a couple cutters and engage 'em for the
afternoon. Then I would turn around, y'understand, and go up and see
such a feller like Klinkowitz, which he is manager of that theayter on
Rivington Street, and I would get him to fix up for me a half a dozen
young fellers from his theayter, which they would come down to my store
for the day, and some of 'em acts like customers, and others acts like
clerks. Then, when my friend brings in the feller with two thousand
dollars, understand me, what do they see? The place is full of
customers and salesmen, and in the rear is a couple of cutters chalking
lines on pattern papers and cutting it up with shears. You yourself are
so busy, understand me, you could hardly talk a word to us. You don't
want to know anything about getting a partner at all. What is a partner
with two thousand dollars in a rushing business like you are doing it?
I beg of you you should take the matter under consideration, but you
pretty near throw me out of the store, on account you got so much to
do. At last you say you would take a cup coffee with me at six o'clock,
and I go away with the two-thousand dollar feller, and when we meet
again at six o'clock, he's pretty near crazy to invest his money with
you. Do you get the idee?"
"Might you could even get the feller to pay for the coffee, maybe,"
Zamp suggested, completely carried away by Shimko's enthusiasm.
"If the deal goes through," Shimko declared, in a burst of generosity,
"I would even pay for the coffee myself!"
"And when would you bring the feller here?" Zamp asked.
"I would see him this afternoon yet," Shimko replied, as he opened the
store door, "and I would telephone you sure, by Dachtel's place, at
four o'clock."
Zamp, full of gratitude, shook hands with his landlord.
"If I would got such a head like you got it to think out schemes, Mr.
Shimko," he said fervently, "I would be a millionaire, I bet yer!"
"The thinking out part is nothing," Shimko said, as he turned to leave.
"Any blame fool could think out a scheme, y'understand, but it takes a
pretty bright feller to make it work!"
* * * * *
"If a feller wouldn't be in business for himself," Shimko said to Isaac
Meiselson, as they sat in Wasserbauer's Cafe that afternoon, "he might
just as well never come over from Russland at all."
"I told you before, Mr. Shimko," Meiselson retorted, "I am from Lemberg
_geborn_."
"_Oestreich oder Russland_, what is the difference?" Shimko asked. "If
a feller is working for somebody else, nobody cares who he is or what
he is; while if he's got a business of his own, understand me, everybody
would respect him, even if he would be born in, we would say for example,
China."
"Sure, I know, Mr. Shimko," Meiselson rejoined; "but there is
businesses and businesses, and what for a business is a small retail
clothing store on Canal Street?"
"Small the store may be, I ain't denying it," Shimko said; "but ain't
it better a feller does a big business in a small store as a small
business in a big store?"
"_If_ he does a big business, yes," Meiselson admitted; "but if a
feller does a big business, why should he want to got a partner?"
"Ain't I just telling you he _don't_ want no partner?" Shimko interrupted.
"And as for doing a big business, I bet yer we could drop in on the
feller any time, and we would find the store full of people."
"_Gewiss_," Meiselson commented, "three people playing auction pinochle
in a small store is a big crowd!"
"No auction pinochle gets played in that store, Meiselson. The feller
has working by him two cutters and three salesmen, and he makes 'em
earn their money. Only yesterday I am in the store, and if you would
believe me, Meiselson, his own landlord he wouldn't talk to at all, so
busy he is."
"In that case, what for should he need me for a partner I couldn't
understand at all," Meiselson declared.
"Neither could I," Shimko replied, "but a feller like you, which he
would soon got two thousand dollars to invest, needs _him_ for a
partner. A feller like Zamp would keep you straight, Meiselson. What
you want is somebody which he is going to make you work."
"What d'ye mean, going to make me work?" Meiselson asked indignantly.
"I am working just as hard as you are, Mr. Shimko. When a feller is
selling toilet soaps and perfumeries, Mr. Shimko, he couldn't see his
trade only at certain hours of the day."
"I ain't kicking you are not working, Meiselson," Shimko said hastily.
"All I am telling you is, what for a job is selling toilet soaps and
perfumery? You got a limited trade there, Meiselson; because when it
comes to toilet soaps, understand me, how many people takes it so
particular? I bet yer with a hundred people, Meiselson, eighty uses
laundry soap, fifteen _ganvers_ soap from hotels and saloons, and
the rest buys wunst in six months a five-cent cake of soap. As for
perfumery, Meiselson, for a dollar bill you could get enough perfumery
to make a thousand people smell like an Italiener barber-shop; whereas
clothing, Meiselson, everybody must got to wear it. If you are coming
to compare clothing with toilet soap for a business, Meiselson, there
ain't no more comparison as gold and putty."
Meiselson remained silent.
"Furthermore," Shimko continued, "if Zamp sees a young feller like you,
which even your worst enemy must got to admit it, Meiselson, you are a
swell dresser, and make a fine, up-to-date appearance, understand me,
he would maybe reconsider his decision not to take a partner."
"Did he say he wouldn't take a partner?" Meiselson asked hopefully.
"He says to me so sure as you are sitting there: 'Mr. Shimko, my dear
friend, if it would be for your sake, I would willingly go as partners
together with some young feller,' he says; 'but when a business man is
making money,' he says, 'why should he got to got a partner?' he says.
So I says to him: 'Zamp,' I says, 'here is a young feller which he is
going to get married to a young lady by the name Miss Babette Schick.'"
"She ain't so young no longer," Meiselson broke in ungallantly.
"'By the name Miss Babette Schick,'" Shimko continued, recognizing the
interruption with a malevolent glare, "'which she got, anyhow, a couple
thousand dollars,' I says; 'and for her sake and for my sake,' I says,
'if I would bring the young feller around here, would you consent to
look him over?' And he says for my sake he would consent to do it, but
we shouldn't go around there till next week."
"All right," Meiselson said; "if you are so dead anxious I should do
so, I would go around next week."
"Say, lookyhere, Meiselson," Shimko burst out angrily, "don't do me no
favours! Do you or do you not want to go into a good business? Because,
if you don't, say so, and I wouldn't bother my head further."
"Sure I do," Meiselson said.
"Then I want to tell you something," Shimko continued. "We wouldn't
wait till next week at all. With the business that feller does, delays
is dangerous. If we would wait till next week, some one offers him a
good price and buys him out, maybe. To-morrow afternoon, two o'clock,
you and me goes over to his store, understand me, and we catches him
unawares. Then you could see for yourself what a business that feller
is doing."
Meiselson shrugged.
"I am agreeable," he said.
"Because," Shimko went on, thoroughly aroused by Meiselson's apathy,
"if you're such a fool that you don't know it, Meiselson, I must got to
tell you. Wunst in a while, if a business man is going to get a feller
for partner, when he knows the feller is coming around to look the
business over, he plants phony customers round the store, and makes it
show up like it was a fine business, when in reality he is going to
bust up right away."
"So?" Meiselson commented, and Shimko glared at him ferociously.
"You don't appreciate what I am doing for you at all," Shimko cried. "I
wouldn't telephone the feller or nothing that we are coming, understand
me? We'll take him by surprise."
Meiselson shrugged.
"Go ahead and take him by surprise if you want to," he said wearily. "I
am willing."
In point of fact, Isaac Meiselson was quite content to remain in the
soap and perfumery trade, and it was only by dint of much persuasion on
Miss Babette Schick's part that he was prevailed upon to embark in a
more lucrative business. It seemed a distinct step downward when he
compared the well-nigh tender methods employed by him in disposing of
soap and perfumery to the proprietresses of beauty parlours, with the
more robust salesmanship in vogue in the retail clothing business; and
he sighed heavily as he contemplated the immaculate ends of his
finger-nails, so soon to be sullied by contact with the fast-black,
all-wool garments in Zamp's clothing store.
"Also, I would meet you right here," Shimko concluded, "at half-past
one sharp to-morrow."
* * * * *
After the conclusion of his interview with Isaac Meiselson, Shimko
repaired immediately to Zamp's tailoring establishment, and together
they proceeded to the office of Mr. Boris Klinkowitz, manager of the
Olympic Gardens, on Rivington Street. Shimko explained the object of
their business, and in less than half an hour the resourceful
Klinkowitz had engaged a force of cutters, salesmen, and customers
sufficient to throng Harry Zamp's store for the entire day.
"You would see how smooth the whole thing goes," Klinkowitz declared,
after he had concluded his arrangements. "The cutters is genu-ine
cutters, members from a union already, and the salesmen works for years
by a couple concerns on Park Row."
"And the customers?" Zamp asked.
"That depends on yourself," Klinkowitz replied. "If you got a couple
real bargains in sample garments, I wouldn't be surprised if the
customers could be genu-ine customers also. Two of 'em works here as
waiters, evenings, and the other three ain't no bums, neither. I called
a dress-rehearsal at your store to-morrow morning ten o'clock."
On the following day, when Mr. Shimko visited his tenant's store, he
rubbed his eyes.
"Ain't it wonderful?" he exclaimed. "Natural like life!"
"S-s-sh!" Zamp exclaimed.
"What's the matter, Zamp?" Shimko whispered.
Zamp winked.
"Only the cutters and the salesmen showed up," he replied.
"Well, who are them other fellows there?" Shimko asked.
"How should I know?" Zamp said hoarsely. "A couple of suckers comes in
from the street, and we sold 'em the same like anybody else."
Here the door opened to admit a third stranger. As the two "property"
salesmen were busy, Zamp turned to greet him.
"Could you make me up maybe a dress suit _mit_ a silk lining?" the
newcomer asked.
"What are you so late for?" Zamp retorted. "Klinkowitz was here
_schon_ an hour ago already."
The stranger looked at Zamp in a puzzled fashion.
"What are you talking about--Klinkowitz?" he said. "I don't know the
feller at all."
Zamp gazed hard at his visitor, and then his face broke into a broad,
welcoming smile.
"Excuse me," he said. "I am making a mistake. Do you want a French
drape, _oder_ an unfinished worsted?"
For the next thirty minutes a succession of customers filled the store,
and when at intervals during that period Klinkowitz's supernumeraries
arrived, Zamp turned them all away.
"What are you doing, Zamp?" Shimko exclaimed. "At two o'clock the store
would be empty!"
"Would it?" Zamp retorted, as he eyed a well-dressed youth who paused
in front of the show-window. "Well, maybe it would and maybe it
wouldn't; and, anyhow, Mr. Shimko, if there wouldn't be no customers
here, we would anyhow got plenty of cutting to do. Besides, Shimko,
customers is like sheep. If you get a run of 'em, one follows the
other."
For the remainder of the forenoon the two salesmen had all the
customers they could manage; and as Shimko watched them work, his face
grew increasingly gloomy.
"Say, lookyhere, Zamp," he said; "you are doing here such a big
business, where do I come in?"
"What d'ye mean, where do _you_ come in?" Zamp asked.
"Why the idee is mine you should get in a couple salesmen and cutters,"
Shimko began, "and----"
"What d'ye mean, the _idee_ is yours?" Zamp rejoined. "Ain't I got
a right to hire a couple salesmen and cutters if I want to?"
"Yes, but you never would have done so if I ain't told it you," Shimko
said. "I ought to get a rake-off here."
"You should get a rake-off because my business is increasing so I got
to hire a couple salesmen and cutters!" Zamp exclaimed. "What an idee!"
Shimko paused. After all, he reflected, why should he quarrel with
Zamp? At two o'clock, when he expected to return with Meiselson, if the
copartnership were consummated, he would collect 10 per cent. of the
copartnership funds as the regular commission. Moreover, he had decided
to refuse to consent to the transfer of the store lease from Zamp
individually to the copartnership of Zamp & Meiselson, save at an
increase in rental of ten dollars a month.
"Very well, Zamp," he said. "Maybe the idee ain't mine; but just the
same, I would be back here at two o'clock, and Meiselson comes along."
With this ultimatum Shimko started off for Wasserbauer's Cafe, and at
ten minutes to two he accompanied Meiselson down to Canal Street.
"Yes, Meiselson," Shimko began, as they approached Zamp's store.
"There's a feller which he ain't got no more sense as you have, and yet
he is doing a big business anyhow."
"What d'ye mean, no more sense as I got it?" Meiselson demanded.
"Always up to now I got sense enough to make a living, and I ain't
killed myself doing it, neither!"
For the remainder of their journey to Zamp's store Shimko sulked in
silence; but when at length they reached their destination he exclaimed
aloud:
"Did you ever see the like?" he cried. "The place is actually full up
with customers!"
Zamp's prediction had more than justified itself. When Shimko and
Meiselson entered, he looked up absently as he handled the rolls of
piece goods which he had purchased, for cash, only one hour previously.
Moreover, his pockets overflowed with money, for every customer had
paid a deposit of at least 25 per cent.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Zamp," Shimko cried. "This is Mr. Meiselson, the
gentleman which I am speaking to you about. He wants to go as partners
together with you."
Zamp ran his hand through his dishevelled hair. He was more than
confused by his sudden accession of trade.
"You got to excuse me, Mr. Shimko," he said, "I am very, very busy just
now."
Shimko winked furtively at Zamp.
"Sure, I know," he said, "but when could we see you later to-day?"
"You _couldn't_ see me later to-day," Zamp replied. "I am going to
work to-night getting out orders."
"_Natuerlich_," Shimko rejoined, "but couldn't you take a cup
coffee with us a little later?"
Zamp jumped nervously as the door opened to admit another customer. The
two clerks, supplemented by a third salesman, who had been hired by
telephone, were extolling the virtues of Zamp's wares in stentorian
tones, and the atmosphere of the little store was fairly suffocating.
"I couldn't think of it," Zamp answered, and turned to the newly
arrived customer. "Well, sir," he cried, "what could I do for _you_?"
"Say, lookyhere, Zamp," Shimko exploded angrily, "what is the matter
with you? I am bringing you here a feller which he wants to go as
partners together with you, and----"
At this juncture Meiselson raised his right hand like a traffic
policeman at a busy crossing.
"One moment, Mr. Shimko," he interrupted. "You are saying that I am the
feller which wants to go as partners together with Mr. Zamp?"
"Sure!" Shimko said.
"Well, all I got to say is this," Meiselson replied. "I ain't no horse.
Some people which they got a couple thousand dollars to invest would
like it they should go into a business like this, and kill themselves
to death, Mr. Shimko, but _me_ not!"
He opened the store door and started for the street.
"But, lookyhere, Meiselson!" Shimko cried in anguished tones.
"_Koosh_, Mr. Shimko!" Meiselson said. "I am in the soap and perfumery
business, Mr. Shimko, and I would stay in it, too!"
* * * * *
Six months later Harry Zamp sat in Dachtel's Coffee House on Canal
Street, and smoked a post-prandial cigar. A diamond pin sparkled in his
neck-tie, and his well-cut clothing testified to his complete solvency.
Indeed, a replica of the coat and vest hung in the window of his
enlarged business premises on Canal Street, labelled "The Latest from
the London Pickadillies," and he had sold, strictly for cash, more than
a dozen of the same style during the last twenty-four hours. For the
rush of trade which began on the day when he hired the "property"
salesmen and cutters had not only continued but had actually increased;
and it was therefore with the most pleasurable sensations that he
recognized, at the next table, Isaac Meiselson, the unconscious cause
of all his prosperity.
"Excuse me," he began, "ain't your name Meiselson?"
"My name is Mr. Meiselson," Isaac admitted. "This is Mr. Zamp, ain't
it?"
Zamp nodded.
"You look pretty well, considering the way you are working in that
clothing business of yours," Meiselson remarked.
"Hard work never hurted me none," Zamp answered. "Are you still in the
soap and perfumery business, Mr. Meiselson?"
Meiselson shook his head.
"No," he said, "I went out of the soap business when I got married last
month."
"Is that so?" Zamp commented. "And did you go into another business?"
"Not yet," Meiselson replied, and then he smiled. "The fact is," he
added in a burst of confidence, "my wife is a dressmaker."
CHAPTER THREE