him another raise. He's a wonder!"
Abe nodded gloomily.
"You could get all the wonders you want, Mawruss, to learn cutting at
eight dollars a week," he said; "and supposing he does pick up English
quick, Mawruss--a feller could be a regular Henry Shakespeare,
y'understand, and he wouldn't be any better as a garment cutter on that
account. Am I right or wrong?"
"Well, certainly it don't do no harm that Kovalenko understands a little
English," Morris commented.
"Sure not," Abe agreed satirically, "because the quicker he learns
English, Mawruss, the quicker he would copy our styles and find a job
with a competitor. Take this here Harkavy, for instance. Only this
morning I seen Felix Geigermann in the subway and he says that Kleiman &
Elenbogen is showing, at a dollar less on the garment, a ringer for our
Style 4022 which we sold him, Mawruss. Now, who tells them suckers how
they could cut down on the buttons and the lining, Mawruss, and put one
pleat less in the skirt, Mawruss? I suppose you did or I did,
Mawruss--ain't it?"
He paused for a reply, but none came.
"And yet, Mawruss," he concluded, "that feller Harkavy was a wonder too;
and I suppose, Mawruss, the way he picked up English would be a big
consolation to us, Mawruss, if a good customer like Geigermann leaves us
and goes over to Kleiman & Elenbogen."
Morris grunted scornfully.
"You are all the time looking for trouble, Abe," he said. "If we would
lose as many customers as you are talking about, Abe, we wouldn't got a
decent concern left on our books at all. You got to give Geigermann
credit for knowing a good garment when he sees it."
"Sure, I know, Mawruss," Abe replied. "Geigermann knows a good garment
when he sees it, but his customers don't; and if Geigermann could get,
for a dollar less than ours, garments which looks like ours and is like
ours, all but the buttons and the pleats in the skirt, we could kiss
ourselves good-by with the business, no matter how many bright
greenhorns we got it in our cutting room."
"_Geh weg!_" Morris exclaimed. "You don't know what you are talking
about, Abe."
Nevertheless, when Felix Geigermann, the well-known Harlem dry-goods
merchant and violin dilettante, entered Potash & Perlmutter's showroom
the next morning Morris greeted him with some misgiving.
"Hello, Felix!" he said. "Are you giving us a repeat order so soon
already on them 4022's?"
Felix shook his head.
"I got a few words to say to Abe, Mawruss," he replied. "Is he in now?"
Morris smiled amiably, although he was convinced that Felix's visit
boded a cancellation of the 4022's.
"He ain't in now," he answered, "but if you wait a few minutes he'll be
right back."
He returned hastily to the office, for he knew that if Abe found them in
conversation on his return he would impute the cancellation of the order
to something Morris had said. Thus Felix was left alone in the showroom,
save for Cesar Kovalenko, who plied a feather duster industriously among
the sample-racks. As he worked, Cesar whistled a Russian melody, half
sad, half cheerful, and Felix paused midway in the lighting of his
cigar. It was the opening theme in the second movement of Tschaikovsky's
Fourth Symphony; and Cesar's rendition of it was not only true to pitch
but he managed to introduce certain nuances that to Felix proclaimed the
born musician.
"What's that you are whistling?" he inquired; and Cesar smiled.
"Tschaikovsky's Fourt' Symphony," he replied, and then he reached around
to his hip-pocket. "See; I am got music."
He handed a paper-covered miniature score to Geigermann, who opened it
at random.
"Ha!" Felix exclaimed as his eye lit on a familiar phrase in the last
movement. He hummed it over and Cesar joined him in a clear, musical
barytone. They were thus engaged when a tall, broad-shouldered
individual entered the showroom.
"Sorry to interrupt you, gentlemen," he said, "but is the boss in?"
"In the office back there," Felix replied.
"Will you tell him Mr. Gunther would like to see him?" the newcomer
continued.
"I will if you want me to," Felix said; "but I am here only a customer."
"Excuse me," Mr. Gunther apologized. "I was talking about the other
feller. However----"
He proceeded to the office and engaged Morris in earnest conversation
for several minutes. They returned to the showroom just as Cesar was
replacing the score in his hip-pocket. The motion was too much for Mr.
Gunther, whose occupation made him nervous; and he plunged his hand into
his overcoat and brought out a shining metallic object. There was a
sharp struggle and Cesar Kovalenko leaned against the partition with his
wrists encircled by a pair of handcuffs.
"Come along quiet," said Mr. Gunther calmly, "or I'll knock yer block
awff."
At this juncture the elevator door banged open and Abe came into the
showroom.
"What is the matter here?" he cried.
Mr. Gunther smiled.
"I'm a United States deputy marshal," he proclaimed, "and I'm arresting
this guy under a warrant duly issued in the Southern District of New
York. I've got a taxicab downstairs and if any of you gentlemen is a
friend of the prisoner youse can come along to the marshal's office."
Morris darted into the office and reappeared with his hat and coat.
"Abe," he said, "you stay here in the store. I would go down with him."
Abe frowned.
"One moment, Mawruss," he cried. "It don't go so quick as all that.
First, we would find out what he makes this young feller arrested for."
The deputy marshal nodded.
"That's all right," he said. "You're entitled to know it. He's arrested
on the complaint of the Russian Consulate for something he did in Russia
two years ago."
"In Russia!" Abe exclaimed. "Two years ago! Mawruss, do me a favour. You
stay in the store and I would go with him."
Felix Geigermann placed his hand on Abe's arm.
"Say, lookyhere, Abe," he said. "I'll tell you the truth. I am pretty
busy to-day here to cancel them 4022's; but now I don't care at all. You
could ship them goods if you want to, Abe; but one thing I ask you as a
favour--let me go with him. I don't care what the other feller says. I
am just now talking to this here young feller and if he done anything in
Russia, understand me, I would eat it. So you stay here and tend to
business and I would go with him."
Morris drew on his overcoat with force sufficient to rip the
sleeve-lining. "Nathan, the shipping clerk, could tend the store, Abe,"
he declared, "and we'll all go with him."
* * * * *
"In the first place, Mawruss," Abe said, after they had returned from
the United States Commissioner's office, where Cesar Kovalenko had been
arraigned and committed without bail to the Tombs--"in the first place
what are we bothering our heads about this young feller? Of course, when
I was down there, Mawruss, and see that feller from the Russian
counsellor's office, which he is got a face, Mawruss, hard like iron,
y'understand, I didn't say nothing; but the way you are going to work
and telephoning to Henry D. Feldman and everything, Mawruss--before we
would get through with him it would cost us anyhow a couple hundred
dollars."
"Geigermann says he would go half," Morris said.
"Sure, I know, Mawruss; but just because Geigermann acts like a sucker,
Mawruss, why should we get ourselves into it too? Furthermore, Mawruss,
how do we know Geigermann would go half? He's that kind of feller,
Mawruss, that when he says something he don't take it so particular he
should stick to it, Mawruss. One day he gives us an order and the next
day cancels it, Mawruss--and that's the kind of a man he is."
"He didn't cancel it, Abe," Morris cried. "He was going to cancel it,
but he changed his mind."
"Sure, he changed his mind," Abe interrupted; "and what is going to
hinder him changing his mind on this other proposition, Mawruss? You
could take it from me, Mawruss, when the time comes he should pay up,
understand me, it'll be a case of _nix wissen_--and don't you forget
it."
Morris shrugged impatiently.
"_Nu_, Abe," he said; "what could we do? Once in a while we couldn't
help ourselves, y'understand. Should we let this poor greenhorn be sent
back to Russland, which he ain't got a relative in the world, understand
me, except his cousin, which he is just as poor as Kovalenko?"
"That's all right, Mawruss," Abe declared. "I ain't kicking we shouldn't
help the feller. All I am saying is there's lots of our people which
they got more dollars as we got dimes. Take Moses M. Steuermann, for
instance; there's a feller which he is such a big charity feller,
understand me, why shouldn't he help Kovalenko?"
"Well, in the first place, no one tells him about it, Abe," Morris said,
"and in the second place----"
"But why don't we tell him about it, Mawruss?" Abe interrupted. "Why
don't you go down to see him, Mawruss, and tell him all about it?"
"Me go down to see him, Abe!" Morris cried. "Why, the feller is a
multimillionaire. With such people like that I couldn't open my mouth at
all. Why don't you go down to see him?"
"Why should I go down?" Abe asked. "You are the lodge brother here,
Mawruss--ain't it? You are the one which you are always sitting up till
all hours of the night making motions. I couldn't make a motion to save
my life, Mawruss, and you know it."
"Sure, I know," Morris protested; "but lodge meetings is something else
again. A feller could talk at a lodge meeting--and what is it? A couple
young lawyers which they couldn't even pay their laundry bills,
y'understand, and a dozen other fellers, insurance brokers _oder_ cigar
dealers, and most of 'em old-timers at that--why should I be afraid to
say a little something to 'em? But with a feller like Moses M.
Steuermann, which his folks was bankers in Frankfort-on-the-Main when
Carnegie and Vanderbilt and all them other _goyim_ was new beginners
yet, Abe--that's a different proposition entirely."
Abe nodded and remained silent for a few minutes.
"Might Felix Geigermann would go down and see him, Mawruss," he
suggested finally. "It wouldn't do no harm we should ring him up
anyhow."
"Go as far as you like, Abe," Morris said, and Abe started immediately
for the telephone.
"I spoke to Felix, Mawruss," he announced a few minutes later, "and
Felix said he would go right down and see him. He ain't so stuck on
paying Feldman a couple hundred dollars neither."
Morris snorted indignantly.
"If you was going to be charitable, Abe," he said, "why don't you be a
sport? We could easy stand a couple hundred dollars."
"That's all right, Mawruss," Abe declared. "Business is business and
charity is charity, y'understand; but even in charity, Mawruss, it don't
do no harm to keep the expenses down."
Two hours afterward Felix Geigermann entered the showroom, his face
glistening with perspiration.
"Well, boys," he almost shouted, "I seen him, and he says he would call
in here on his way uptown."
"Who would call in?" Morris asked.
"Moses M. Steuermann," Felix replied. "It was the Tschaikovsky Fourth
that fixed him, Mawruss. I told him that young feller carries round with
him an orchestral score, and right away he says he would come up. For
years I seen Mr. Steuermann at the Philharmonics and the Boston
Symphonies, Mawruss, and I didn't know who he was at all. I always
thought he was something to do with a music-publishing concern."
"Steuermann got something to do with a music-publishing concern!" Morris
exclaimed. "I'm surprised to hear you, you should talk that way, Felix."
"Well, when you are seeing year in and year out a feller goes to every
concert what is, Abe," Felix explained, "naturally you get an idee he is
in the music business--ain't it?"
"That's what you think, Felix," Abe said, taking up the cudgels in
defence of Steuermann; "but you could take it from me, Felix, if a
feller like Steuermann seemingly fools away his time at concerts,
understand me, he ain't doing it for nothing. He probably gets some
business out of it the same like a lot of fellers you would think is
making suckers of themselves going to lodge meetings, Felix. Most of 'em
sells many a big bill of goods that way."
"That ain't here nor there, Abe," Felix rejoined. "The point is,
Steuermann would be up here at five o'clock; so, what are you going to
tell him when he calls?"
"Me tell him!" Abe cried. "Why, I wouldn't be here at all. I got
to--now--see--a--now--customer at the Prince Clarence."
"You ain't got to do nothing of the kind, Abe," Morris retorted angrily.
"You are going to stay right here and talk to that feller when he comes.
What do you think--I am going to be the goat every time?"
"What's the matter, Abe?" Felix asked. "Are you afraid of the feller? He
couldn't eat you up, Abe."
"What d'ye mean, afraid of him?" Abe exclaimed. "I am seeing big
merchants every day, Felix, and I could talk right up to them too. But
this here is my partner's affair. He hired Kovalenko in the first place;
and----"
"What's the use talking, Abe?" Morris interrupted. "If you go home I go
home; so you got to stay and we would both see the feller. What is the
difference, supposing the feller does got a couple million dollars?"
"A couple million dollars!" Felix said. "Why, I bet yer, if the feller's
got a cent he is worth twenty million dollars."
Abe drew pale.
"Say, lookyhere, why should I talk to Mr. Steuermann?" he besought. "You
could do this without me, Mawruss."
"Don't be a baby, Abe," Morris retorted. "Felix would stay here with us
and----"
"Not me, boys," Felix said. "I guess you got to excuse me. I done enough
already and if I don't get right home and change my underclothes, which
they are dripping wet with perspiration, I would sure catch a bad cold."
He shook Abe and Morris warmly by the hand; and hardly had the elevator
door closed behind him when the showroom became a scene of nervous
activity.
"Nathan," Abe yelled to the shipping clerk, "fetch the broom. The place
looks like a pigsty here!"
He turned to Morris with excited gesture.
"Do me the favour, Mawruss," he said; "tell a couple of them young
fellers from the cutting room to come in here. Them sample-racks ain't
been straightened up for a week. I am going round to the barber shop,
Mawruss, and I would be right back."
* * * * *
It lacked one minute of five and Abe and Morris sat at their respective
desks in the firm's office, when Miss Cohen, the bookkeeper, knocked
timidly at the door.
"A gentleman wants to see you, Mr. Potash," she said. "He wouldn't give
his name."
Abe cleared his throat with an effort.
"Tell him he should come right in," he croaked; and a moment later a
tall personage, clad in a fur overcoat and wearing a freshly ironed silk
hat, appeared in the doorway.
"Is this Mr. Potash?" he asked in rounded, oratorical tones.
Abe nodded. For a moment he was bereft of speech and he jerked his head
sideways in the direction of his partner.
"This is Mr. Perlmutter," he said at length--"my partner."
"How do you do, sir?" the visitor replied as he seized Morris's clammy
palm in a warm embrace.
"Take a seat," Morris murmured, dragging forth a chair; and the stranger
sat down deliberately.
"Well, sir," Abe asked, "what could we do for you?"
"Mr. Potash," the visitor began, "every merchant is at tames confronted
with a situation which demands a few appropriate remarks."
Abe nodded and mopped tentatively at his dewy forehead.
"But how many are there," the visitor continued, "who can do justice to
the occasion? For instance, Mr. Perlmutter, you are asked at a
charitable meeting to discuss the question of restricting immigration. I
ask you candidly, Mr. Perlmutter, would you feel competent to stand upon
your feet and----"
Suddenly Abe jumped to his feet.
"Excuse me, my dear sir," he cried. "Wouldn't you smoke a cigar?"
Morris was nearest the safe and he, too, leaped from his chair.
"Never mind the safe, Mawruss," Abe said, flapping his right hand
excitedly. "I bought some while I was out just now."
[Illustration: "Mr. Potash," the visitor began, "every merchant is at
times confronted with a situation which demands a few appropriate
remarks"]
He handed a gold-banded, Bismarck-size cigar to the visitor, who nodded
a dignified acknowledgment and immediately struck a match.
"Yes, Mr. Perlmutter," he went on, "as I was saying, such a topic as the
restriction of immigration would embarrass even an experienced speaker."
He paused and cleared his throat impressively. "Now, I have here," he
said, exploring the capacious pockets of his overcoat, "a work entitled
'A Quarter of a Century in Congress,' by the Honourable Lucius J.
Howell, which, gentlemen, is issued upon subscription only, in half
morocco or crushed levant at a hitherto unheard-of price."
Abe ceased mopping his brow and turned a terrible glare upon the book
canvasser.
"What!" he roared. "A book agent?"
Once more he jumped to his feet. "Out!" he bellowed. "Out from my
office, you dirty loafer!"
The book agent scowled and replaced the bound dummy in his pocket.
"With a high-grade selling proposition like this, Mr. Potash," he said,
"you should be careful of your language."
"Mawruss," Abe cried, "what the devil do you mean letting in a feller
like this?"
"What d'ye mean, letting him in?" Morris retorted. "Did I tell Miss
Cohen she should show him in?"
"Don't quarrel on my account, gentlemen," the canvasser said as he
puffed at his cigar. "I shall call again when you're not so busy."
He passed out of the office with a graceful gesture of farewell, and
once more Abe and Morris sat down on the edge of their chairs. It was
not for long, however; and this time, without any announcement, a
thick-set gentleman with carefully trimmed beard and moustache stood in
the doorway.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen," he said--and Abe and Morris literally
sprang into the middle of the office floor.
"Mr. Steuermann?" Abe gasped, extending his hand.
"My name is Mr. Goldstein," the visitor replied, "and I represent the
Lilywhite Dress Shield Company."
He proceeded no further, however, for Morris led him by the shoulder to
the elevator shaft and pointed to a notice reading:
HOURS FOR SALESMEN
8 to 9:30
Morris returned to the office and hardly was he seated in his chair
when, for the third time, the doorway framed a visitor.
"Mr. Potash?" the newcomer asked timidly. He was a short, slender man,
past middle age, clad in a shabby overcoat, half threadbare, and a soft
felt hat of a dingy, weatherbeaten appearance.
"_Nu!_" Abe growled. "What is it now?"
"Mr. Potash," the stranger continued, "I called to see you at the
request of Mr. Geigermann. My name is Steuermann." Abe essayed to rise,
but his knees would not support him and he waved his hand feebly to a
chair that Morris dragged forward.
"Mr. Steuermann," Morris said, "you are coming up here to see us when we
could much better afford it if we would go down and see you."
"Why, gentlemen, it was no inconvenience for me," Steuermann replied. "I
am on my way home."
"God would bless you for it, anyway!" Abe declared fervently; and
Steuermann blushed.
"Now, Mr. Potash," he protested, "I am not here for compliments. I've
come to see what we can all do for this poor fellow. I'm a little late,
because I was waiting for a report from my lawyers."
"Your lawyers!" Abe exclaimed. "Why, we already hired Henry D. Feldman."
"So I believe," Steuermann replied; "and he has consented to act in
conjunction with my lawyers--Chitty, Schwarzstein & Munjoy. I shall
relieve you gentlemen of all responsibility in the matter."
"Do you mean by responsibility, Mr. Steuermann, that you would pay
Feldman?" Abe asked.
Mr. Steuermann smiled.
"Well, we won't discuss that just now," he said.
"Because," Abe continued, "we wouldn't consent to nothing of the kind,
Mr. Steuermann; the young feller works for us and we would got to do our
share."
"That part will come later," Steuermann insisted; "and now let's see
what is to be done."
For more than half an hour Steuermann disclosed to Abe and Morris the
result of his lawyers' investigation.
"Mr. Munjoy has seen Kovalenko," Steuermann said, "and he asserts that,
so far as proof is concerned, no murder was ever committed."
"But, Mr. Steuermann," Morris said, "the feller which he opened the
package, y'understand, was blown up so his own father couldn't recognize
him even."
"That's just the point, Mr. Perlmutter," Steuermann declared; "and Mr.
Munjoy says that on this circumstance hinges the Russian Consulate's
whole case. They are obliged to prove that a definite person was killed;
and it seems that the consulate paid the passage of the victim's father
to this country, so that he might testify before the United States
Commissioner. I understand that the old man, who by the way is a Rabbi,
arrived last week. Mr. Munjoy says that, if the father is unable to
testify to the identity of the victim it may so complicate matters that
more evidence will be necessary and the consulate may drop the affair on
account of the expense involved."
Morris nodded sadly.
"Lawyers could always make expenses, Mr. Steuermann," he said, "for the
Russian counsellor and for us also."
"Never mind about expense, Mawruss," Abe interrupted. "What does it
matter a few hundred dollars, Mawruss, so long as we get this young
feller free? In fact, Mr. Steuermann, I am willing we should go half if
we could see this here Rabbi and _schmier_ him a thousand dollars he
should swear that no one was killed at all."
Mr. Steuermann shook his head. "That would be in effect suborning
perjury, Mr. Potash," he said--and Morris glared at Abe.
"I'm surprised at you, you should suggest such a thing, Abe!" he
exclaimed. "Seemingly you got no conscience at all. A thousand dollars
we should pay the feller! I bet yer he would lie himself black in the
face for a twenty-dollar bill."
"It isn't a matter of money, Mr. Perlmutter," Steuermann said; "but why
not see the old man to-night? I have his address here, and if you
approached him in the right way perhaps he might testify that he did not
recognize the murdered man. That would only be the simple truth and it
would be just what we want. As it is, I'm afraid the Russian Consulate
will intimidate him into swearing that he knew the body to be that of
his son."
He handed Morris a card bearing a Madison Street address.
"Well, gentlemen," he concluded, "I've taken up your time long enough. I
hope to see you in my office to-morrow, Mr. Perlmutter."
Morris nodded and was about to shake hands with his visitor when Abe
slapped his thigh in a sudden realization of his inhospitality.
"Mr. Steuermann," he exclaimed, "wouldn't you smoke something?"
He jumped to his feet and thrust a huge gold-banded cigar at Mr.
Steuermann, who shook his head.
"Thank you very much," Mr. Steuermann said, "but I'm afraid it's rather
near dinner-time."
"Put it in your pocket and smoke it after dinner," Abe insisted, and Mr.
Steuermann smilingly obliged.
Together the two partners escorted him into the elevator; and when the
door closed behind him Morris turned to Abe with an ironical smile.
"You got a whole lot of manners, Abe, I must say," he commented
bitterly.
"Whatd'ye mean, manners?" Abe asked. "What did I done?"
"Tell a millionaire like Mr. Steuermann he should smoke the cigar after
dinner!" Morris replied.
"Don't you suppose he's got plenty cigars of his own?"
"Maybe he did got 'em and maybe he didn't," Abe retorted; "but, in the
first place, Mawruss, I noticed he took the cigar, y'understand; and, in
the second place, Mawruss, them cigars cost thirty-five cents apiece,
Mawruss, and there's few millionaires, Mawruss, which is too proud to
smoke a thirty-five-cent cigar."
* * * * *
When Morris Perlmutter entered the subway that evening en route for the
lower East Side, he was in none too cheerful mood; for, in the
excitement attending Steuermann's visit, he had forgotten to telephone
Mrs. Perlmutter that he would be late for dinner. Consequently there had
been a painful scene upon his arrival home that evening, nor had Mrs.
Perlmutter's wrath been appeased when he informed her that he was
obliged to go right downtown again.