Abe shook his head. "You got it wrong, Mawruss. You must be mistaken," he concluded. "She eloped with Gubin."
CHAPTER VIII
"You carry a fine stock, Mr. Sheitlis," Abe Potash exclaimed as he glanced around the well-filled shelves of the Suffolk Credit Outfitting Company.
"That ain't all the stock I carry," Mr. Sheitlis, the proprietor, exclaimed. "I got also another stock which I am anxious to dispose of it, Mr. Potash, and you could help me out, maybe."
Abe smiled with such forced amiability that his mustache was completely engulfed between his nose and his lower lip.
"I ain't buying no cloaks, Mr. Sheitlis," he said. "I'm selling 'em."
"Not a stock from cloaks, Mr. Potash," Mr. Sheitlis explained; "but a stock from gold and silver."
"I ain't in the jewelry business, neither," Abe said.
"That ain't the stock what I mean," Mr. Sheitlis cried. "Wait a bit and I'll show you."