He entered Leon Sammet's private office, and as soon as Uncle Mosha found himself alone in the showroom he clenched the butt of his cigar between his yellow teeth and explored his pockets for pencil and paper. Having found them, he was soon plunged in a maze of figures representing the profit in going short of seven hundred shares on a one-point margin, assuming that the market dropped eight points in ten days.
"Hallo, Aaron," Leon Sammet cried when he caught sight of the younger Kronberg.
Aaron nodded, with half-closed eyes.
"Sit down, Aaron," Leon continued; "you look worried."
"I bet yer," Aaron replied. "What d'ye think of that sucker?"
"What's Alex been doing now?" Leon asked.
"Alex! What d'ye mean, Alex?" Aaron said. "Alex I ain't worrying about at all. I mean Uncle Mosha Kronberg."
Forthwith he unfolded to Leon the sum of his uncle's iniquities, sparing no detail of his own well-nigh ruined prospects and ending with an account of Uncle Mosha's interrupted deal with Morris Perlmutter.
Leon slammed the top of his desk with his open hand.
"Before I would let that shark, Perlmutter, get the house I would buy it myself."