"You speak to 'em, Abe," Morris retorted, indicating the working force by a wave of his hand.
"What have I got to do with it?" Abe asked. "You're the inside man, Mawruss."
"To my sorrow, Abe," said Morris, "and if you was the inside man you would know it that if I told 'em they was working on a rush order they'd strike for more money already."
"And yet, Mawruss, you ain't in favor of giving out our work by contractors," Abe cried as he walked away.
The next morning Sam Slotkin was waiting in the show-room before Abe or Morris arrived. When they entered he advanced to meet them with a confident smile.
"I got it the very thing what you want, Mr. Perlmutter," he said. "A fine loft on Nineteenth Street."
"A loft!" Abe exclaimed.
"A fine loft," Slotkin corrected.
"How big a loft?" Morris asked.
"Well, it is maybe twicet as big as this here," Slotkin replied. "You could get into it all your machines and have a cutting-room and show-room and office besides."