"Maybe he buys oitermobiles, Sol," Abe suggested.
"Supposing I did buy last spring an oitermobile, Abe," Sol retorted. "That is the least. I bet yer
that feller Klein spends enough on taxicab rides for customers, and also one or two of 'em which she ain't customers, as he could buy a dozen oitermobiles already. No, Abe, that ain't the point. The first year Klein and me goes as partners together, he overdraws me two hundred and fifty dollars. Schon gut. If the feller is a little extravagent, y'understand, he's got to make it up next year."
Sol paused to investigate the roast beef which Max had brought, and being apparently satisfied, he proceeded with his narrative.
"Next year, Abe," he continued, "Klein not only ain't made up the two hundred and fifty, Abe, but he gets into me three hundred dollars more. Well, business is good, y'understand, and so I don't kick and that's where I am a great big fool, Abe, because every year since then, Abe, that sucker goes on and on, until to-day our balance sheet shows I got five thousand more invested in the business as Klein got it. And if I would tell him we are no longer equal partners, Abe, he would go right down to Henry D. Feldman, and to-morrow morning there would be a receiver in the store."
Sol plunged his fork into the slice of roast beef as though it were Klein himself, and he hacked at it so viciously that the gravy flew in every direction.
"Max," he roared, clapping his handkerchief to his face, "what the devil you are bringing me here—soup?"
It was at least five minutes before Sol had exhausted
his stock of profanity, and when at length the tablecloth was changed and Abe had ministered to the front of his coat with a napkin dipped in water, Sol ceased to upbraid the waiter and resumed his tirade against his partner.
"Yes, Abe," he said, "you are in luck. You got a partner, y'understand, which he is a decent respectable feller. I bet yer Mawruss would no more dream of overdrawing you, than he would fly in the air."