"What did you tell 'em!" Morris asked, somewhat alarmed.
"I told 'em, Mawruss, that the season is comparatively young yet, but we already made from ten to twenty per cent. more sales by our new designer. I told Leon them new styles what Louis Grossman got up for us is selling so big we can't put 'em out fast enough."
"And what did Leon say?" Morris asked.
"He didn't say nothing," Abe replied, "but he looked like his best customer had busted up on him. Then I showed him the order what we got from Ike Herzog, and he started in right away to call Barney down for going home early the day before. I tell you, Mawruss, he was all broke up."
"I know, Abe," Morris commented, "that's all right, too, but, all the same, we ain't got much of a laugh on them two boys, so long as Louis Grossman loafs away upstairs drawing sixty dollars a week and five per cent. of the profits."
"Well," Abe replied, "what are you going to do about it? Henry D. Feldman drew up the contract, and you know, Mawruss, contracts what Henry D. Feldman makes nobody can break."
"Can't they?" Morris cried. "Well, if Henry D. Feldman made it can't Henry D. Feldman break it? What good is the lawyer, anyhow, what can't get us out of the contract what he fixed up himself?"
Abe pondered over the situation for five minutes.
"You're right, Mawruss," he said at length; "I'll go and see Henry D. Feldman the first thing to-morrow morning."
The next morning Leon Sammet sat at his roll-top desk in his private office, while Barney went over the morning mail.