"What do I care?" Morris rejoined. "It's only a loan and I bet yer you would quick pay me back."
Max paused on the sidewalk and stared. "What's the matter, Morris?" he cried. "Are you sick?"
"Must a feller got to be sick to want to help you out, Max?" Morris said. "And anyhow, Max, it's as much a favour to us as it is to you."
By this time they had reached the Prince Clarence Hotel and Morris led the way to the café.
"Say, lookyhere, Max, the whole thing is this," he said after they were seated: "I'm going to lend you three thousand dollars to go into a business with a feller which he got a store in a small town upstate, and you're going to do it."
Max shook his head.
"No; I ain't," he answered. "I'm too old a dog to learn new tricks."
"If you sell goods wholesale you could sell 'em retail," Morris declared. "So, if you would listen to me I'll tell you what the proposition is."
Forthwith Morris unfolded to Max the history of Sam Green's mercantile establishment.
"And now, after all them years, Max," he concluded, "that feller gets practically run out of town because his bank shuts down on him."