"Let 'em agree," Sammet shouted. "They are their own bosses and so am I, Lubliner; so if they want to give him an extension of their account I ain't got nothing to say. All I want is eight hundred dollars he owes me; and the rest of them suckers could agree till they are black in the face."
"Aber, anyhow, Sammet," Elkan said, "come to the meeting to-morrow morning and we would see what we could do."
"See what we could do!" Sammet bellowed. "You will see what I could do, Lubliner; and I will come to the meeting to-morrow and I'll do it too. So, if you don't mind, Lubliner, I could still do a little work before we close up here."
For a brief interval Elkan dug his nails into the palms of his hands, and his eyes unconsciously sought a target for a right swing on Sammet's bloated face; but at length he nodded and forced himself to smile.
"Schon gut, Mr. Sammet," he said; "then I will see you to-morrow."
A moment later he strode down lower Fifth Avenue toward the place of business of the last creditor on Dishkes' list. This was none other than Elkan's distinguished friend, B. Gans, the manufacturer of highgrade dresses; and it required less than ten minutes to procure his consent to the proposed extension.
"And I hope," Elkan said, "that we could count on you to be at the meeting to-morrow."
"That's something I couldn't do," B. Gans replied; "but I'll write you a letter and give you full authority you should represent me there. Excuse me a minute and I'll dictate it to Miss Scheindler." When he returned, five minutes later, he sat down at his desk and, crossing his legs, prepared to beguile the tedium of waiting.
"Well, Elkan," he said, "what you been doing with yourself lately? Thee-aytres and restaurants, I suppose?"
"Thee-aytres I ain't so much interested in no more," Elkan said. "The fact is, I am going in now for antics."