"Bring him up here then," Abe said, "and we'll give you your money."
Pincus Levin nodded and shuffled off toward the back stairs, while Abe turned and gazed after him.
"I couldn't make it out at all, Mawruss," he said. "The more I look at that feller, Mawruss, the more he makes me think of this here—"
"Good morning, Mr. Potash!" a familiar voice interrupted. It was Harkavy.
"Hello there!" Morris cried cheerfully. "I thought you would be here."
Hakavy smiled sadly. His face was white and drawn and his shoes and trousers were covered with mud as though he had walked the streets all night.
"I am keeping my word anyhow," he said; "but I am only coming to tell you I got to go to Chicago."
"Why must you got to go?" Abe insisted.
"Well, there's certain reasons, Mr. Potash," Harkavy replied. "There's certain—rea—"
He struggled to control his speech as his eyes rested on the rear stairway, but his words became more and more inarticulate until, with a shudder and a gasp, he fell heavily to the floor.