"And that's the way it is, Mr. Kapfer," Elkan concluded. "I don't know her name; but a poor little girl like her, which she is so good—and so—and so——"
Here he became all choked up and Kapfer handed him a cigar.
"Don't go into that again, Lubliner," Kapfer said; "you told me how good she is six times already. The point is you are in a hole and you want me I should help you out—ain't it?"
Elkan nodded wearily.
"Well, then, my advice to you is: Stiegen," Kapfer continued. "Don't say a word about this to nobody until you would, anyhow, find out the girl's name."
"I wasn't going to," Elkan replied; "but there's something else, Mr. Kapfer. To-night I am to meet this here other Shadchen by the name Fischko, who is going to take me up to Maslik's house."
"But I thought Miss Maslik was sick," Kapfer said.
"She was sick," Elkan answered, "but she would be better by to-night. So that's the way it stands. If I would go downtown now and explain to Mr. Scheikowitz that I am not going up there to-night and that I was there last night—and——" Here Elkan paused and made an expressive gesture with both hands. "The fact is," he almost whimpered, "the whole thing is such a Mischmasch I feel like I was going crazy!"
Kapfer leaned across the table and patted him consolingly on the arm.
"Don't make yourself sick over it," he advised. "Put it up to Polatkin. You don't got to keep Scheikowitz's idee a secret now, Lubliner, because sooner or later Polatkin must got to find it out. So you should let Polatkin know how you was up there last night, and that Rashkind wants you to go up there Friday night on account Miss Maslik was sick, and leave it to Polatkin to flag Scheikowitz and this here Fischko."