"Yes, Mr. Marks," Abe agreed, "if you had it a partner, Mr. Marks, that would be something else again, but the partner what I got it, Mr. Marks, you got no idee what an independent feller that is. I can assure you, Mr. Marks, that feller don't let me
know nothing what he is doing outside of our business. For all I would know, he might of sold his house already."
"You don't mean to say that his house is on the market, do you?" Marks said sharply.
"I don't mean to say nothing," Abe replied, as he started to leave. "All I mean to say is that I am tired of waiting for that lowlife Rothschild, and I must get back to my store."
"Wait a bit; I'll go downstairs with you," Marks broke in.
As they walked down to the elevated road they exchanged further confidences, by which it appeared that Mr. Marks was in the furniture business on Third Avenue, and that he lived on Lenox Avenue near One Hundred and Sixteenth Street.
"Why, you are practically a neighbor of Mawruss Perlmutter," Abe cried.
"Is that so?" Mr. Marks said, as they reached the elevated railway.
"Yes," Abe went on, "he lives on a Hundred and Eighteenth Street and Lenox Avenue."
"You don't say so?" Mr. Marks replied. "Well, Mr. Potash, I guess I got to leave you here."