"Of course, Mawruss," Abe went on, "I'm only saying they might do this, y'understand, and certainly it would only be for the first week or so what we are there, ain't it? But if we should only get it one or two customers that way, Mawruss, them fixtures would pay for themselves."
"Dreams you got it, Abe," Morris cried. "You think them customers would be blind, Abe? Ain't
they got eyes in their head? Since when would they mistake a back number like you for an up-to-date feller like Rifkin, Abe?"
"Maybe I am a back number, Mawruss," Abe replied, "but I know a bargain when I see it. Them fixtures is practically this season's goods already. Why, H. Rifkin ain't even paid for them yet."
"There ain't no seasons in fixtures, Abe," Morris replied, "and besides, a feller like Rifkin could have it fixtures for ten years without paying for 'em. He could get 'em on the installment plan and give back a chattel mortgage, Abe. You couldn't tell me nothing about fixtures, Abe, because I know all about it."
"You don't seem to know much about it this morning when I spoke to you, Mawruss," Abe retorted.
"Sure not," Morris said, "but I learned it a whole lot since. I got to thinking it over after you left. So I rings up a feller by the name Flachsman, what is corresponding secretary in the District Grand Lodge of the Independent Order Mattai Aaron, which I belong it. This here Flachsman got a fixture business over on West Broadway."
Abe nodded. He lit a fresh cigar to sustain himself against impending bad news.
"And this here Flachsman comes around here half an hour ago and shows me pictures from fixtures, Abe; and he got it such elegant fixtures like a bank or a saloon, which he could put it in for us for two thousand dollars."
"Two thousand dollars!" Abe cried.