"I thought – " Elkan began.
"You ain't got no business to think," Polatkin interrupted. "The next time you are selling a concern like Appenweier & Murray don't promise nothing in the way of deliveries, because with people like them it's always the same. If you tell 'em a week they ring you up and insist on it they would got to got the goods in five days."
He put his hand on Elkan's shoulder; and the set expression of his face melted until his short dark moustache disappeared between his nose and his under lip in a widespread grin.
"Come inside the office," he said – "you too, Scheikowitz. Elkan's got a long story he wants to tell us."
Half an hour later, Sam Markulies knocked timidly at the office door.
"Mr. Polatkin," he said, "Marx Feinermann says to me to ask you if he should wait any longer on account they're very busy over to Kupferberg Brothers'."
"Tell him he should come in here," Polatkin said; and Markulies withdrew after gazing in open-mouthed wonder at the spectacle of Elkan Lubliner seated at Polatkin's desk, with one of Polatkin's mildest cigars in his mouth, while the two partners sat in adjacent chairs and smiled on Elkan admiringly.
"You want to speak to me, Mr. Polatkin?" Feinermann asked, as he came in a moment afterward.
"Sure," Polatkin replied as he handed the astonished Feinermann a cigar. "Sit down, Feinermann, and listen to me. In the first place, Feinermann, what for a neighborhood is Pitt Street to live in? Why don't you move uptown, Feinermann?"
"A foreman is lucky if he could live in Pitt Street even," Feinermann said. "You must think I got money, Mr. Polatkin."
"How much more a month would it cost you to live uptown?" Polatkin continued. "At the most ten dollars – ain't it?"
Feinermann nodded sadly.
"To a man which he is only a foreman, Mr. Polatkin, ten dollars is ten dollars," he commented.
"Sure, I know," Polatkin said; "but instead of five dollars a week board, Elkan would pay you seven dollars a week, supposing you would move up to Lenox Avenue. Ain't that right, Elkan?"
"Sure, that's right," Elkan said. "Only, if I am paying him seven dollars a week board, he must got to give Mrs. Feinermann a dollar and a half extra housekeeping money. Is that agreeable, Feinermann?"
Again Feinermann nodded.
"Then that's all we want from you, Feinermann," Polatkin added, "except I want to tell you this much: I am asking Elkan he should come uptown and live with me; and he says no – he would prefer to stick where he is."
Feinermann shrugged complacently.
"I ain't got no objections," he said as he withdrew.
"And now, Elkan," Polatkin cried, "we got to fix it up with the other feller."
Hardly had he spoken when there stood framed in the open doorway the disheveled figure of Flaxberg.
"Nu, Flaxberg," Polatkin said. "What d'ye want from us now?"
"I am coming to tell you this, Mr. Polatkin," Flaxberg said thickly through his cut and swollen lips: "I am coming to tell you that I'm sick and so you must give me permission to go home."
"Nobody wants you to stay here, Flaxberg," Polatkin answered.
"Sure, I know," Flaxberg rejoined; "but if I would go home without your consent you would claim I made a breach of my contract."
"Don't let that worry you in the least, Flaxberg," Polatkin retorted, "because, so far as that goes, we fire you right here and now, on account you didn't make no attempt to sell Appenweier & Murray, when a boy like Elkan, which up to now he wasn't even a salesman at all, could sell 'em one thousand dollars goods."
Flaxberg's puffed features contorted themselves in an expression of astonishment.
"Lubliner sells Appenweier & Murray a bill of goods!" he exclaimed.
By way of answer Polatkin held out the order slip for Flaxberg's inspection.
"That's all right," Flaxberg declared. "I would make it hot for you anyhow! You put this young feller up to it that he pretty near kills me."
"Yow! We put him up to it!" Polatkin retorted. "You put him up to it yourself, Flaxberg. You are lucky he didn't break your neck for you; because, if you think you could sue anybody in the courts yet, we got for witness Feinermann, Markulies and ourselves that you called him a liar and a thief."
"Nu, Polatkin," Scheikowitz said, "give him say a hundred dollars and call it square."
"You wouldn't give me five hundred dollars," Flaxberg shouted as he started for the door, "because I would sue you in the courts for five thousand dollars yet."
Flaxberg banged the door violently behind him, whereat Polatkin shrugged his shoulders.
"Bluffs he is making it!" he declared; and forthwith he began to unfold plans for Elkan's new campaign as city salesman. He had not proceeded very far, however, when there came another knock at the door. It was Sam Markulies.
"Mr. Flaxberg says to me I should ask you if he should wait for the hundred dollars a check, or might you would mail it to him maybe!" he said.
Scheikowitz looked inquiringly at his partner.
"Put on it, 'In full of all claims against Polatkin & Scheikowitz or Elkan Lubliner to date,'" he said. "And when you get through with that, Scheikowitz, write an 'ad' for an assistant cutter. We've got to get busy on that Appenweier & Murray order right away."
CHAPTER THREE
A MATCH FOR ELKAN LUBLINER
MADE IN HEAVEN, WITH THE ASSISTANCE OF MAX KAPFER
"I WOULDN'T care if Elkan Lubliner was only eighteen even," declared Morris Rashkind emphatically; "he ain't too young to marry B. Maslik's a Tochter. There's a feller which he has got in improved property alone, understand me, an equity of a hundred to a hundred and fifty thousand dollars; and if you would count second mortgages and Bronix lots, Mr. Polatkin, the feller is worth easy his quarter of a million dollars."
"Sure I know," Polatkin retorted. "With such a feller, he gives his 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 Stück!" 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 hüten 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 café, 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 gefüllte 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 gefüllte 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 café 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 reëntered the office Elkan turned to Marcus Polatkin.
"You ain't scrapping again," he said, "are you?"
"Oser a Stück," 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 Hanové; 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 Stück, 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 café, 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."
Elkan had been about to disclose the conversation between himself and Scheikowitz at Wasserbauer's that afternoon, but Marcus, at the appearance of his partner, turned abruptly and walked into the cutting room; and thus, when Elkan accompanied Max Kapfer uptown that evening, his manner was so preoccupied by reason of his dilemma that Kapfer was constrained to comment on it.
"What's worrying you, Lubliner?" he asked as they seated themselves in the café of the Prince Clarence. "You look like you was figuring out the interest on the money you owe."