black beard swept his torso to the waist, "that feller over there, by
the name Tzvee Margoninsky, is strong like a bull, Mr. Eschenbach. Last
week he moves for us the safe from the show-room to the office like it
would be an empty packing-case already."
Eschenbach shook his head and smiled.
"_Mit_ one arm already," he declared, "a feller could better play
baseball as _mit_ such a beard. What we must got to do is to pick out
only fellers which looks more up to date."
"Go ahead and use your own judgment, Mr. Eschenbach," said Birsky; and
thereat Jonas Eschenbach immediately selected three long-armed
operators for outfielders. In less than half an hour he had secured the
remainder of the team, including as pitcher I. Kanef, the shipping
clerk.
"I seen worser material, Mr. Birsky," Eschenbach said after he had
returned to the showroom; "so, if you would get these fellers up at
Adelstern's lots on Northeastern Boulevard and Pelham Parkway on Sunday
morning at ten o'clock, Mr. Birsky, I'll show 'em a little something
about the game, understand me. Then on Monday morning I should be very
glad to look over your sample line."
"_Aber_, Mr. Eschenbach," Birsky cried, "why not look at it now?"
Eschenbach smiled enigmatically as he clasped Birsky's hand in
farewell.
"Because, in the first place," he said, "I got an appointment downtown,
Mr. Birsky; and, in the second place, lots of things could happen
before Monday."
"You shouldn't worry yourself, Mr. Eschenbach," Birsky protested, "them
fellers would be up there all right."
"If we got to pay 'em overtime even," Zapp added as he conducted
Eschenbach into the elevator, "union rates."
* * * * *
When Jonas Eschenbach arrived at Adelstern's vacant lots the following
Sunday morning he was more than delighted with the size and enthusiasm
of the gathering that awaited him. Practically all the members of
Birsky & Zapp's working force were assembled, surging and
gesticulating, round a little group composed of Birsky, Zapp, and
Golnik.
"Did you ever hear the like, Mr. Eschenbach?" Birsky exclaimed as the
philanthropist elbowed his way through the crowd. "The feller don't
know the first thing about the game, understand me, and he kicks yet
that he wants to be pitcher!"
Golnik flapped the air with his right hand.
"Never mind I don't know nothing about the game!" he declared. "Not
only I am president of the society, but I am the designer in your
place--ain't it? And if you think it's _bekovet_ you are giving this
_Aleer_ to Kanef, which he is only a shipping clerk, understand me, I
think differencely."
"But what is the honour about being a pitcher?" Eschenbach protested.
"There's a whole lot of pitchers which they couldn't sign their names
even."
"That's all right, too," Golnik declared. "Might I don't know nothing
about this here baseball, Mr. Eschenbach, but I could read in the
papers, understand me; and an up-to-date, high-grade pitcher is getting
his ten thousand a year yet."
"_Schmooes_, ten thousand a year!" exclaimed Eschenbach. "What does a
pitcher amount to anyway? Supposing a pitcher gets fresh with the
umpire, _verstehst du mich_, and the umpire orders the pitcher he
should get off the field, y'understand--he dassent give him no back
talk nor nothing. He must got to go, _verstehst du_, because in
baseball the pitcher is nothing and the umpire everything."
"Umpire?" Golnik replied. "What is that--an umpire?"
"The umpire is a kind of a foreman," Eschenbach continued, "only bigger
yet--which if you would be umpire, that's an honour; _aber_ a pitcher
is nothing."
Here he winked furtively at Louis Birsky.
"And I says to Mr. Birsky only the other day," he went on, "I says, 'We
must make the designer the umpire,' I says; 'because such an _Aleer_
really belongs to the designer.' _Aber_ if you are so stuck on being
pitcher, understand me, we would make you the pitcher, and the shipping
clerk will be the umpire."
Golnik shrugged his shoulders.
"It don't make no difference to me one way or the other," he said; "so
I am content I should be the umpire."
"_Schon gut!_" Eschenbach cried as he laid down a heavy valise he had
brought with him. "And now, boys, let's get busy."
He opened the valise and produced a catcher's mask and mitt, a bat, and
three balls.
"Here, you!" he said, throwing one of the balls to Kanef.
During the discussion with Golnik, Kanef had maintained the bent and
submissive attitude becoming in a shipping clerk toward his superior;
but when Eschenbach flung the ball at him he straightened up
immediately and, to the surprise and delight of the philanthropist, he
caught it readily with one hand.
"Well, well!" Eschenbach exclaimed. "I see you played ball already."
"Used to was shortstop with the Scammel Field Club," Kanef murmured.
"We was champeens of the Eighth Ward."
"Good!" Eschenbach cried. "Might we would got another ballplayer here?"
"Sure," Kanef replied, pointing to a short, thick-set presser who stood
grinning among the spectators. "That feller there, by the name Max
Croplin, he plays second base already."
"You don't say so!" Eschenbach exclaimed. "Well, supposing Max Croplin
catches and you pitch, understand me, and I would go on the bat and
give them fellers here a sample play already."
He threw the mask and mitt to Croplin, who proceeded to put them on
amid the murmured plaudits of his fellow workmen, while Eschenbach
seized the bat and planted himself firmly over the home plate.
Meantime, Kanef proceeded to the pitcher's box and, wiping his right
hand in the dirt, he struck a professional attitude that made
Eschenbach fairly beam with delight.
"Play ball!" the philanthropist yelled, and Kanef swung his arm in the
regular approved style.
The next moment the ball flew from his hand and, describing an
outcurve, grazed the tangent point of Eschenbach's waist-line into the
outstretched palm of Max Croplin.
"Strike one!" Eschenbach shouted. "You should please remember this is a
sample play only, and 'tain't necessary you should send 'em so fast."
Kanef nodded, while Croplin returned the ball; and this time Eschenbach
poised himself to knock a heaven-kissing fly.
"Play ball!" he cried again, and once more Kanef executed a pirouette
on the mound preparatory to pitching the ball. Simultaneously
Eschenbach stepped back one pace and fanned the air just as the
oncoming ball took a sudden drop. A moment later it landed squarely in
the pit of his stomach, and with a smothered "Woof!" he sank to the
ground.
"Oo-ee!" wailed the hundred operators with one breath, while Birsky and
Zapp ran wildly toward the home plate.
"Mr. Eschenbach," Birsky exclaimed, "_um Gottes willen!_ What did that
loafer done to you?"
"It's all right," Eschenbach gasped, struggling to his feet. "I ain't
hurted none, and in a regular game I would take my first base already."
"Well, take it here," Birsky said. "Don't mind us, Mr. Eschenbach--or
maybe you ain't got none _mit_ you."
He put his hand to his hip-pocket and drew out a pocket flask, which
Eschenbach, however, waved away.
"That's expressly something which a ballplayer must never got to touch
during a game," Eschenbach cried as he dusted off his trousers with his
handkerchief and once more seized the bat. "Now, then, Mr. Pitcher," he
cried, "send me a real slow one straight over the plate."
Birsky and Zapp returned to the edge of the lot, scowling savagely at
Kanef, who was once more engaged in wiping his hands in the dust. This
time, however, he executed no preliminary dance steps, and Eschenbach
swung his bat to such good purpose that the ball went sailing between
the first and second bases at the height of a short man's shoulder--or,
to be exact, at the height of Jacob Golnik's right shoulder, from which
it rebounded into the left eye of Joseph Bogin, the shop foreman.
Amid the scene of confusion that ensued only Jonas Eschenbach remained
calm.
"As clean a hit as ever I see!" he cried proudly, and strolled off
toward the excited mob that surrounded Golnik and Bogin, both of whom
were shrieking with fright and pain.
"D'ye think they're hurted bad, Mr. Eschenbach?" Zapp inquired
anxiously.
"_Schmooes_--hurt bad!" Eschenbach retorted. "Why should a little thing
like that hurt 'em bad?"
He was still intoxicated with the triumph of making what would have
been a home run in a regular game, and his face bore a pleased smile as
he turned to Birsky.
"I says to myself when I seen that ball coming," he continued, "I would
put that right between first and second bases, about where that short
and that big feller is standing--and that's exactly what happened."
Birsky stared at his prospective customer in shocked surprise.
"Then you done it on purpose!" he exclaimed.
"Certainly I done it on purpose," declared Eschenbach. "What do you
think it was--an accident?"
He swung his bat at a pebble that lay in his path and Birsky and Zapp
edged away.
"Well, if I was you, Mr. Eschenbach," Birsky said, "I wouldn't say
nothing more about it to nobody. Even if you would meant it as a joke,
understand me, sometimes them things turns out serious." With this
dictum he elbowed his way through the sympathetic crowd that hemmed in
the victims. "_Koosh_, Golnik!" he bellowed. "You might think you
was injured for life the way you are carrying on."
"Never mind, Mr. Birsky," Golnik whimpered, "I am hurted bad enough. If
I would be able to handle a pair of shears in six weeks already I'm a
lucky man." He heaved a tremulous sigh and nodded his head slowly.
"Little did I think," he wailed, "when I fixed up this here mutual aid
society that I would be the first one to get the sick benefit."
Joseph Bogin ceased his agonizing rocking and turned fiercely to
Golnik.
"What d'ye mean, the first one?" he demanded. "Ain't I in on the sick
benefit also? Not alone would I draw a sick benefit, Golnik, but might
I would come in for the losing-one-eye benefit, maybe, the way I am
feeling now."
"You would what?" Birsky shouted. "You would come in for nothing,
Bogin! All you would come in for is losing your job, Bogin, if you
don't be careful what you are saying round here."
At this juncture Jonas Eschenbach bustled toward them and clapped his
hands loudly.
"Now, then, boys," he called, "the whole team should please get out on
the field."
He pointed to a tall, simian-armed operator who stood listening
intently to the conversation between Golnik and Birsky.
"You, there," Jonas said to him, "you would play right field--and get a
move on!"
The operator nodded solemnly and flipped his fingers in a deprecatory
gesture.
"It don't go so quick, Mr. Eschenbach," he said, "because, speaking for
myself and these other fellers here, Mr. Eschenbach, I would like to
ask Mr. Birsky something a question."
He paused impressively, and even Golnik ceased his moaning as the
remaining members of the baseball team gathered round their spokesman.
"I would like to ask," the operator continued, "supposing _Gott soll
hueten_ I am getting also _Makkas_ in this here baseball, Mr. Birsky,
which I would be losing time from the shop, Mr. Birsky, what for a sick
benefit do I draw?"
Birsky grew livid with indignation.
"What for a sick benefit do you draw?" he sputtered. "A question! You
don't draw nothing for a sick benefit." He appealed to Eschenbach, who
stood close by. "An idee, Mr. Eschenbach," he said. "Did y'ever hear
the like we should pay a sick benefit because some one gets hurted
_spieling_ from baseball already? The first thing you know, Mr.
Eschenbach, we would be called upon we should pay a benefit that a
feller breaks his fingers leading two aces and the ten of trumps, or
melding a round trip and a hundred aces, understand me; because, if a
feller behaves like a loafer, y'understand, he could injure himself
just so much in pinochle as in baseball."
"_Schon gut_, Mr. Birsky," the operator continued amid the approving
murmurs of his fellow players, "that's all I want to know."
As they moved off in the direction of the West Farms subway station,
Golnik's resentment, which for the time had rendered him speechless,
gave way to profanity.
"So," he cried, choking with indignation, "I was acting like a loafer,
was I? And that's how I got hurted!"
Here he contorted his face and clapped his hand to his injured shoulder
in response to a slight twinge of pain; and for at least two minutes he
closed his eyes and gasped heavily in a manner that suggested the
agonies of death by the rack and thumbscrews.
"You will hear from me later, gentlemen," he said at last, "and from
Bogin also, which we wouldn't take no part of your sick benefit."
He fell back exhausted against the outstretched arm of a bearded
operator; and thus supported, he seized Bogin's elbow and started to
leave the lot, with the halting steps of Nathan the Wise in the last
act of that sterling drama, as performed by the principal tragedian of
the Canal Street Theatre.
"And you would see, Mr. Birsky," he concluded, "that we got plenty
witnesses, which if we wouldn't get from you and Mr. Eschenbach at the
very least two thousand dollars, understand me, there ain't no lawyers
worth the name in this city!"
Three minutes later there remained in Adelstern's lot only two of
Birsky & Zapp's employees--namely, the pitcher and the catcher of
Eschenbach's team; and they were snapping the ball back and forth in a
manner that caused Eschenbach's eyes to gleam with admiration.
"_Nu_, Mr. Eschenbach," Birsky croaked at last, "I guess we are up
against it for fair, because not only we would lose our designer and
shop foreman, y'understand, but them fellers would sue us sure."
Eschenbach waved his hands airily.
"My worries!" he said. "We would talk all about that to-morrow
afternoon in your store."
Again he seized the bat and swung it at a pebble.
"But, anyhow," he concluded, "there's still five of us left, Mr.
Birsky; so you and Zapp get out on right and left field and we'll see
what we can do."
He crossed over to the home plate and pounded the earth with the end of
his bat.
"All right, boys," he called. "Play ball!"
* * * * *
Louis Birsky limped wearily from the cutting room, where he had been
busy since seven o'clock exercising the functions of his absent
designer.
"Oo-ee!" he exclaimed as he reached the firm's office. "I am stiff like
I would got the rheumatism already."
Barney Zapp sat at his desk, with a pile of newly opened mail in front
of him, and he scowled darkly at his partner, who sank groaning into
the nearest chair.
"I give you my word, Barney," Birsky went on, "if that old _Rosher_
would of kept us a minute longer throwing that _verfluechte Bobky_
round, understand me--never mind he wouldn't come in here and buy a big
order from us this morning--I would of wrung his neck for him. What
does he think we are, anyway--children?"
Zapp only grunted in reply. He was nursing a badly strained wrist as
the result of two hours' fielding for Jonas Eschenbach; and thus
handicapped he had been performing the duties of Joseph Bogin, the shop
foreman, who only that morning had sent by his wife a formal note
addressed to Birsky & Zapp. It had been written under the advice of
counsel and it announced Bogin's inability to come to work by reason of
injuries received through the agency of Birsky & Zapp, and concluded
with the notice that an indemnity was claimed from the funds of the
mutual aid society, "without waiving any other proceedings that the
said Joseph Bogin might deem necessary to protect his interests in the
matter."
"_Nu_, Zapp," Birsky said after Zapp had shown him Bogin's note, "you
couldn't prevent a crook like Bogin suing you if he wants to, understand
me; and I bet yer when Eschenbach comes in here this afternoon he would
buy from us such a bill of goods that Bogin's and Golnik's claims
wouldn't be a bucket of water in the ocean."
For answer to this optimistic prophecy Zapp emitted a short and
mirthless laugh, while he handed to his partner another letter, which
read as follows:
HOTEL PRINCE CLARENCE,--_Sunday night_.
FRIEND BIRSKY: As I told you Saturday, lots of things might happen
before Monday, which they did happen; so that I cannot look over
your sample line on account I am obliged to leave for Cordova right
away. Please excuse me; and, with best wishes for the success of
your society, I am
Yours truly,
JONAS ESCHENBACH.
P.S. I will be back in New York a free man not later than next week
at the latest, and the first thing I will call at your place. We
will talk over then the society and what happens with your designer
yesterday, which I do not anticipate he will make you any
trouble--and the other man, neither.
J. E.
"Well," Birsky commented as he returned the letter to Zapp, "what of
it?"
"What of it!" Zapp exclaimed. "You are reading such a letter and you
ask me what of it?"
"Sure," Birsky replied; "I says what of it and I mean what of it! Is it
such a terrible thing if we got to wait till next week before
Eschenbach gives us the order, Zapp?"
"If he gives us the order next week!" Zapp retorted, "because, from the
way he says nothing about giving us an order _oder_ looking over our
sample line, Birsky, I got my doubts."
"_Schmooes_, you got your doubts!" Birsky cried. "The feller says as
plain as daylight----" Here he seized the letter to refresh his memory.
"He says," Birsky continued: "'P.S. I will be back in New York a free
man not later than next week at the latest, and the first thing I will
call at your place.' Ain't that enough for you?"
Zapp shrugged his shoulders in a non-committal fashion.
"I would wait till next week first," he said, "before I would
congratulate myself on that order."
Birsky rose painfully to his feet.
"You could do as you like, Zapp," he said, "but for me I ain't worrying
about things not happening until they don't, Zapp; so, if any one wants
me for anything I would be over in Hammersmith's for the next
half-hour."
Ten minutes later he sat at his favourite table in Hammersmith's cafe;
and, pending the arrival of an order which included _Kreploch_ soup and
some _eingedaempftes Kalbflieisch_, he gazed about him at the lunch-hour
crowd. Nor was his appetite diminished by the spectacle of H. Dexter
Adelstern and Finkman engaged in earnest conversation at an adjoining
table, and he could not forbear a triumphant smile as he attacked his
plate of soup. He had barely swallowed the first spoonful, however,
when Adelstern and Finkman caught sight of him and they immediately
rose from their seats and came over to his table.
"Why, how do you do, Mr. Birsky?" Adelstern cried. "I hear you had a
great game of baseball yesterday."
Birsky nodded almost proudly.
"You hear correct," he said. "Our mutual aid society must got to thank
you, Mr. Adelstern, for the use of your Bronix lots."
"Don't mention it," Adelstern replied; "in fact, you are welcome to use
'em whenever you want to, Mr. Birsky."
He winked furtively at Finkman, who forthwith broke into the
conversation.
"Might he would buy 'em from you, maybe, Adelstern," he suggested, "and
add 'em to his other holdings on Ammerman Avenue!"
Birsky felt that he could afford to laugh at this sally of Finkman's,
and he did so rather mirthlessly.
"Why don't you buy 'em, Finkman?" he suggested. "From the way you are
talking here the other day to Mr. Eschenbach, you would need 'em for
your mutual aid society which you are making a bluff at getting up."
"I ain't making no bluffs at nothing, Birsky," Finkman replied,
"because, _Gott sei dank_, I don't got to steal other people's idees
to get business."
"Do you think I am stealing Adelstern's idee of this here mutual aid
society, Finkman?" Birsky demanded, abandoning his soup and glaring at
his competitor.
"We don't think nothing, Birsky," Adelstern said; "because, whether you
stole it _oder_ you didn't stole it, Birsky, you are welcome to it. And
if you would send round to my place this afternoon yet I would give
you, free for nothing, a lot of bats and balls and other _Bobkies_ just
so good as new, which I ain't got no use for no more."
"What d'ye mean, you ain't got no use for 'em?" Birsky demanded. He
began to feel a sense of uneasiness that made nauseating the idea of
_eingedaempftes Kalbfleisch_.
"Why, I mean I am giving up my mutual aid society," Adelstern replied.
"It's taking up too much of my time--especially now, Mr. Birsky, when
Eschenbach could hang round my place all he wants to, understand me; he
wouldn't give me no peace at all."
For a brief interval Birsky stared blankly at Adelstern.
"Especially now!" he exclaimed. "What are you talking about, especially
now?"
"Why, ain't you heard?" Adelstern asked in feigned surprise.
"I ain't heard nothing," Birsky said hoarsely.
"Do you mean to told me," Finkman interrupted, "that you ain't heard it
yet about Eschenbach?"
"I ain't heard nothing about Eschenbach," Birsky rejoined.
"Then read this," Finkman said, thrusting a marked copy of the _Daily
Cloak and Suit Review_ under Birsky's nose; and ringed in blue pencil
was the following item:
CORDOVA, OHIO--Jonas Eschenbach to Retire. Jonas Eschenbach's
department store is soon to pass into new hands, and Mr. Eschenbach
will take up his future residence in the city of New York.
Negotiations for the purchase of his business, which have been
pending for some time, were closed Saturday, and Mr. Eschenbach has
been summoned from New York, where he has been staying for the last
few days, to conclude the details of the transaction. The
purchaser's name has not yet been disclosed.
As Louis laid down the paper he beckoned to the waiter. "Never mind
that _Kalbfleisch_," he croaked. "Bring me only a tongue sandwich and a
cup coffee. I got to get right back to my store."
By a quarter to six that afternoon the atmosphere of Birsky & Zapp's
office had been sufficiently cleared to permit a relatively calm
discussion of Eschenbach's perfidy.
"That's a _Rosher_ for you--that Eschenbach!" Birsky exclaimed for the
hundredth time. "And mind you, right the way through, that crook knew
he wasn't going to give us no orders yet!
"But," he cried, "we got the crook dead to rights!"
"What d'ye mean, we got him dead to rights?" Zapp inquired listlessly.
"Don't you remember," Birsky went on, "when he hits the _Schlag_ there
yesterday, which injured Golnik and Bogin, he says to us he seen it all
the time where they was standing and he was meaning to hit 'em with the
ball?"
Zapp nodded.
"And don't you remember," Birsky continued, "I says to him did he done
it on purpose, and he said sure he did?"
Zapp nodded again and his listlessness began to disappear.
"Certainly, I remember," he said excitedly, "and he also says to us we
shouldn't think it was an accident at all."
Birsky jumped to his feet to summon the stenographer.
"Then what's the use talking?" he cried. "We would right away write a
letter to Golnik and Bogin they should come down here to-morrow and we
will help 'em out."
"_Aber_ don't you think, if we would say we would help 'em out,
understand me, they would go to work and get an idee maybe we are going
to pay 'em a sick benefit yet?"
"Sick benefit nothing!" Birsky said. "With the sick benefit we are
through already; and if it wouldn't be that the bank is closed,
understand me, I would right away go over to the Kosciusko Bank and
transfer back that five hundred dollars, which I wouldn't take no
chances, even if Feldman did say that without the 'as' the 'Treasurer'
don't go at all."
"Do it to-morrow morning first thing," Zapp advised; "and write Golnik
and Bogin they should come down here at eleven o'clock, y'understand;
so that when they get here, understand me, we could show 'em if they
are going to make a claim against the mutual aid society, Birsky, they
are up against it for fair."
When the two partners arrived at their place of business the following
morning at eight o'clock, however, their plans for the dissolution of
the mutual aid society were temporarily forgotten when, upon entering
their office, they discerned the bulky figure of Henry Feigenbaum
seated in Birsky's armchair.
"Honestly, boys," Feigenbaum said as he bit off the end of a cigar,
"the way you are keeping me waiting here, understand me, it would of
served you right if I would of gone right over to Adelstern's and give
him the order instead of you, y'understand; _aber_ the way Adelstern
treats Jonas Eschenbach, understand me, I would rather die as buy a
dollar's worth of goods from that _Rosher_."