"You shouldn't get fresh, young feller," Kleebaum retorted, "unless you would want to lose your job."
"Aw, quit your stalling," the chauffeur protested. "Is this the guy you was telling me about?"
Kleebaum frowned and contorted one side of his face with electrical rapidity.
"Say, my friend," the chauffeur replied entirely unmoved, "them gestures don't go down with me. Is this the guy you was telling the boss you would jolly into buying a car, because——"
Kleebaum turned to Abe and elaborately assumed an expression of amiable deprecation.
"That's a salesman for you," he exclaimed.
Abe surveyed Kleebaum with a puzzled stare.
"Say, lookyhere, Kleebaum," he said, "if you thought you would get me to buy an oitermobile by giving me this here order, Kleebaum, I'm satisfied you should cancel it. Because again I got to tell it you, Kleebaum, I ain't in the market for oitermobiles just yet awhile."
Kleebaum clapped Abe on the shoulder.
"The feller don't know what he's talking about, Potash," he declared. "He's thinking of somebody quite different as you. That order stands, Potash, and now if you will excuse me joining you in that cup coffee, Potash, I got to say good-by."