This happened to him after a terrible fit of fury against all the bosses in the world. He came to a great determination: he would himself become a boss.
“Let all trace of them be wiped off the face of the earth,—the exploiters!” he cried, running up and down the room. “Let no memory of them remain,—the vampires! May they be sown thickly and grow up sparse, the cannibals! Enough! All over! I’ll become a boss myself!...”
He became silent, but continued to pace about. He was planning.
“He’ll become a boss!” scoffed the old woman. “A bosh, you mean!”
She broke into cutting laughter. Chashke looked at her uneasily.
“For myself, in business only for myself,” he spoke, meditatively.
“Ha-ha! He’ll have to pawn his breeches,” laughed the old woman.
And Chashke transferred her uneasy look to Drabkin. She had at once begun to wonder how he was going to make even a start.
“Never mind. I’ll get money!” he assured them. “I can get ten times as many partners as I need. Everybody knows what an expert worker I am.”
“God grant it!” answered the mother, doubtfully. She had little confidence in Drabkin. But Chashke’s heart was eased of a burden. She believed that it would be easy for him to find a partner.