Rashkind again raised his head and regarded Scheikowitz with a malevolent grin.
"Schmooes!" he jeered. "Miss Maslik is engaged and the Shadchen was Charles Fischko, but the Chosan ain't Elkan Lubliner by a damsight."
It was now Polatkin's turn to gloat, and he shook his head slowly up and down.
"So, Scheikowitz," he said, "you are trying to fix up a Shidduch between Elkan and Miss Maslik without telling me a word about it, and you get the whole thing so mixed up that it is a case of trying to sit between two chairs! You come down mit a big bump and I ain't got no sympathy for you neither."
"What was the feller's name?" Scheikowitz demanded hoarsely of Rashkind, who was straightening out his tie and smoothing his rumpled hair.
"It's a funny quincidence," Rashkind replied; "but you remember, Mr. Polatkin, I was talking to you the other day about Julius Flixman?"
"Yes," Polatkin said, and his heart began to thump in anticipation of the answer.
"Well, Julius Flixman, as I told you, sold out his store to a feller by the name Max Kapfer," Rashkind said and paused again.
"Nu!" Scheikowitz roared. "What of it?"
"Well, this here Max Kapfer is engaged to be married to Miss Birdie Maslik," Rashkind concluded; and when Scheikowitz looked from Rashkind toward his partner the latter had already proceeded more than halfway to the telephone.