"Sure, it is!" Shapolnik cried. "When would you come to work by us, Mr. Koblin?"
"This morning," Abe answered for Sidney—"right now; and one thing I must got to say to you, Sidney, before I go: stand in your own shoes and don't try to excuse yourself, on account you got a rich father. Also, if the old man makes you an offer you should come back to him, turn it down. Take it from me, Sidney, you got a big future here."
With a parting handshake all around Abe started back to his place of business. Five minutes later he boarded a Broadway car, and when he alighted at Nineteenth Street he picked his way through a jam of vehicles, which completely blocked that narrow thoroughfare. As he was about to set foot on the sidewalk he caught sight of the gray, drawn countenance of the Raincoat King, who sat beside his chauffeur on the front seat of a touring car.
"Say, Max," Abe cried, "I want to speak to you a few words something."
Max Koblin turned his head and recognized Abe with a start.
"What d'ye want from me?" he said huskily.
"I want to tell you the boy is all right," Abe replied.
The colour surged to Max's face and he leaped wildly from the automobile.
"What d'ye mean, all right?" he gasped.
"I mean all right in every way, Max," Abe answered; "and if you would step into Hammersmith's for a minute I'll tell you all about it."