"Oh, hello, Potash!" Rabiner said, rising from the piano stool.
"That's some pretty mournful music you was giving us, Moe," Abe went on. "Sounds like business was poor already. Ain't you working no more?"
"I am and I ain't," Mozart replied. "I'm supposed to be selling goods for Klinger & Klein, but since I only sold it one bill in two weeks I ain't got much hopes that I'll get enough more money out of 'em to move me out of town."
"What do you make next, Moe?" Abe asked.
"St. Paul and Minneapolis," Mozart replied.
Abe handed him a large cigar and, lighting the mate to it, puffed away complacently.
"That was a pretty good order you got it from Prosnauer which Sol Klinger tells me about," he said.
Mozart nodded sadly.
"Looky here, Moe," Abe went on, "how much money do you need to move you?"
Mozart lifted his eyebrows and shrugged hopelessly.