"He's a good talker," he said, "only he's too ambitious, Mawruss."
"He shouldn't get ambitious around me, Abe," Morris retorted, "because I wouldn't stand for it. What's he getting ambitious with you about?"
"Well, he wants it three hundred dollars for expenses one week in Chicago already," Abe answered.
"What!" Morris cried.
"He says he got to do some tall entertaining, Mawruss," Abe went on, "because he expects to sell Simon Kuhner a five-thousand-dollars bill of goods, and the Arcade Mercantile Company also five thousand."
"Say, looky here, Abe: I want to tell you something," Morris broke in. "Of course, this ain't my affair nor nothing, because you got the rheumatism and it's your funeral. Also, I am only a partner here, y'understand, and what I says goes for nix. But the way it looks to me now, Abe, if this here Pasinsky sells all the goods he talks about, Abe, we will got to have four times more capital as we are working with now. And if he spends it three hundred dollars in every town he makes we wouldn't
have no capital left at all. And that's the way it goes."
He turned and strode angrily away, while Abe went back to the show-room.
"Well, Pasinsky," he said, "I decided I would take a chance and advance you the three hundred; but you got to do the business, Pasinsky, otherwise it is all off."
Pasinsky nodded and tucked away the yellowbacks which Abe gave him.