Abe and Mawruss Part 59

"Not at all," Abe corrected; "we are partners together so long that I am only surprised supposing you should act sensible."

"Well, the way I look at it I am acting sensible, Abe," Morris announced. "I am acting sensible, because I am going right down to see Marcus Flachs and I would buy from him for ten dollars cut gla.s.s, and I would show that sucker Sammet he couldn't faze me none."

"What d'ye mean, couldn't faze you none?" Abe asked.

"I mean if Sammet is such a faker he goes to work and makes engagement parties for his customers and puts 'em on the paper yet, Abe," Morris declared, as he jammed his hat down more firmly on his head, "he must got to expect his compet.i.tors would take advantage of it, understand me.

And you could bet your sweet life, Abe, Sunday afternoon, comes three o'clock, I am right there at his mother's house with the cut gla.s.s, and don't you forget it."

Abe nodded grimly.

"It's a free country, Mawruss," he said, "and n.o.body could stop you going to an engagement party which is in the paper, y'understand; but you shouldn't forget one thing, Mawruss. You got on our ledger a drawing account, _verstehst du_, and on your way out you should please tell Miss Cohen to enter the ten dollars cut gla.s.s in the right place."

"Don't worry, Abe," Morris cried, as he started for the elevator. "When the time comes we should post it in the ledger, if we ain't opened a new account in Bridgetown, Pa., I would pay for it myself."

Ten minutes later he entered the Twenty-third Street subway station en route to Ca.n.a.l Street, and no sooner had he bought his ticket than his enthusiasm began to wane. After all, he reflected as he boarded the train, ten dollars' worth of cut gla.s.s seemed rather extravagant when one considered the size of an order that in the most favourable circ.u.mstances might emanate from a store in Bridgetown. Indeed, as the train pulled into the Eighteenth Street station he had come to believe that seven dollars and fifty cents would be a generous price, and even this figure commenced to look huge as Fourteenth Street drew near. At Astor Place, Morris decided that five dollars' worth of cut gla.s.s would be more appropriate for a widow. When the guard announced the next stop as Bleecker Street, however, it occurred to Morris that the manufacturers of quadruple plate were producing some very artistic effects in knives, forks and spoons, which in appearance were undistinguishable from sterling silver; and the train was leaving Spring Street when Morris bethought himself of a certain _bonbonniere_ that had cost Mrs. Perlmutter precisely four dollars at a dry-goods store. He distinctly recalled examining the trade-mark, to which were affixed the words "triple plate."

During the short walk from the Ca.n.a.l Street station to Marcus Flachs's place of business, he wondered vaguely if there were such a thing as double plate, and when at last he opened the door of the p.a.w.nbroker's sales store in question he approached the counter with his mind fully made up.

"Do you got maybe some sets from nutpicks?" he inquired of the proprietor.

Marcus Flachs took the question in ill part.

"What the devil do you think I am running here," he demanded by way of answer--"a five-and-ten-cent store?"

"Since when do they sell it nutpicks in a five-and-ten-cent-store?"

Morris retorted.

Flachs snorted angrily.

"I don't think they sell 'em even in five-and-ten-cent stores," he said; "and anyhow, Mr. Perlmutter, what for a present is nutpicks? If a feller eats nuts twice a year, that's a big average. For my part it would _oser_ break my heart if I would never eat another nut so long as I live. Now what you want to get is something cheap, ain't it?"

Morris nodded.

"Something about two dollars and fifty cents," he said.

"That's what I thought," Flachs replied, "and for two dollars and fifty cents there ain't much choice. Olive dishes is all I could show you."

"Let me give a look at 'em," Morris said, and as Flachs led the way to the well-stocked shelves in the rear of the store Morris discerned for the first time the presence of another customer.

"How much did you say that there coffee samovar was?" cried a familiar voice.

"I told you before, Mr. Klinger," Flachs said, "that ain't no samovar.

That's a perculater and it cost me, so sure as I am standing here, fifteen dollars, so I would let you have it for twelve-fifty on account its being shopworn."

"Take ten dollars and make an end," rejoined Klinger, tendering a bill.

"For ten dollars I could give you a fine piece cut gla.s.s, Mr. Klinger,"

Flachs insisted.

By way of answer Klinger tucked away the ten-dollar bill he had taken from his waistcoat pocket, and Flachs seized the coffee percolator with both hands.

"I'll wrap it up for you right away," he said, and then it was that Klinger recognized Morris, who had been standing unnoticed in the background.

"h.e.l.lo, Perlmutter!" he said; "what are you doing here?"

"I guess I am doing the same what you are doing, Klinger," Morris replied stiffly. "I am buying for a customer a present. Ain't it?"

Klinger nodded.

"Honestly, Perlmutter," he said, "I never seen the like how things happen. No sooner you start to sell goods to a feller than somebody is engaged _oder_ married in his family."

"He must be a pretty good customer the way you are blowing yourself,"

Morris commented.

"I bet yer!" Klinger said as he walked away; "and if you would be in our place you would do the same."

For five minutes Morris examined the cut gla.s.s, and when Flachs returned he had decided upon an olive dish of most intricate design. "That's a close buyer, that Mr. Klinger," Flachs observed.

"Not near so close as I am," Morris declared.

"Well, you wouldn't anyhow kick on paying twenty-five cents express, Mr.

Perlmutter," Flachs said, "but that feller actually wants me to deliver the package for nothing."

"Why not?" Morris asked. "Don't everybody deliver packages free?"

"Not a p.a.w.nbroker's-sales store," Flachs replied; "and anyhow, Mr.

Perlmutter, Leon Sammet this morning buys from me for thirty dollars silver to be sent to the same place on One Hundred and Eighteenth Street as that there perculater, and he didn't kick only a little that I am charging him fifty cents express."

"What!" Morris exclaimed. "Is Klinger sending that perculater up to One Hundred and Eighteenth Street too?"

"That's what I said," Flachs answered, and Morris replaced the cut-gla.s.s dish on the shelf.

"Was the name Gladstein?" he inquired, and Flachs nodded.

"Then in that case," Morris said savagely, "let me look at some sterling silver for about twenty-five dollars. If them suckers could stand it, so can I."

More than two days had elapsed before Abe had exhausted the topic of Mrs. Gladstein's ten-dollar engagement present. He discussed it satirically, profanely and earnestly, from the standpoint of business ethics, in such maddening reiterations that Morris could not help wondering how much longer Abe's criticism would have continued had he known that the cold-meat tray really cost twenty-five dollars.

"You are throwing away good money after bad, Mawruss," Abe said, renewing the subject after an interval of comparative calm, "because, so sure as you are standing there, we would never get our two hundred and fifty out of that feller Gurin."

"What has Mrs. Gladstein's present got to do with Gurin?" Morris asked.

"If I told you once, Abe, in the last two days, I am telling you a dozen times, understand me, I am giving that there cold-meat tray to Mrs.

Gladstein as a speculation, Abe. What difference does it make who she marries, Abe, Gurin _oder_ Asimof, so long as we could land from her an order for five hundred dollars?"

"Yow! You would land from her an order for five hundred dollars!" Abe exclaimed.

"Well, if Sol Klinger could do it, why couldn't we?" Morris asked.