"You wouldn't do nothing of the kind," Scheikowitz declared. "It ain't bad enough that Elkan loses this here Shidduch, but you are trying to Jonah a good account also! Why, that feller Kapfer's business after he marries Miss Maslik would be easy worth to us three thousand dollars a year."
"I don't care what his business is worth," Polatkin shouted. "I would say what I please to that highwayman!"
"What do you want to do?" Scheikowitz pleaded—"bite off your nose to spoil your face?"
Polatkin made no reply and he was about to go into the showroom when the telephone bell rang.
"Leave me answer it," Scheikowitz said; and a moment later he picked up the desk telephone and placed the receiver to his ear.
"Hello!" he said. "Yes, this is Polatkin & Scheikowitz. This is Mr. Scheikowitz talking."
Suddenly the instrument dropped with a clatter to the floor; and while Scheikowitz was stooping to pick it up Polatkin rushed into the office.
"Scheikowitz!" he cried. "What are you trying to do—break up our whole office yet? Ain't it enough you are putting all our chairs on the bum already?"
Scheikowitz contented himself by glaring viciously at his partner and again placed the receiver to his ear.
"Hello, Mr. Kapfer," he said. "Yes, I heard it this morning already. Them things travels fast, Mr. Kapfer. No, I don't blame you—I blame this here Fischko. He gives me a dirty deal—that's all."