Abe stopped short and looked at Sol.
"What was that you said, Miss Cohen?" he asked.
"I said that I made a mistake in that statement, and you're overdrawn on Mr. Perlmutter forty-eight dollars," Miss Cohen concluded.
"Then hurry up quick, Miss Cohen," Abe cried, "and draw a check in my personal check book on the Kosciusko Bank to Potash & Perlmutter for forty-eight dollars and see that it's deposited the first thing to-morrow morning."
He handed Sol a cigar.
"Yes, Sol," he said, "if Mawruss would find it out that I am overdrawn on him forty-eight dollars, he would abuse me like a pickpocket. That feller never gives me credit for being square at all, Sol. I would be afraid for my life if he would get on to that forty-eight dollars. Why, the very first thing you know, Sol, he would be going around telling everybody I was a crook and a cutthroat. That's the kind of feller Mawruss is, Sol. I could treat him always like a gentleman, Sol, and if the smallest little thing happens to us, 'sucker' is the least what he calls me."
At this juncture the green baize doors leading into the hall burst open and Morris himself leaped into the show-room. His necktie was perched rakishly underneath his right ear, and his collar was of the moisture and consistency of a used wash rag. His
clothes were dripping, for he carried no umbrella, and his hair hung in damp strands over his forehead. Nevertheless he was grinning broadly, as without a word he ran up to Abe and seized his hand. For two minutes Morris shook it up and down and then he collapsed into the nearest chair.
"Well, Mawruss," Abe cried, "what's the matter? Couldn't you say nothing? What did you come downtown again for? You should have stayed uptown with Minnie."
"S'all right, Abe," Morris gasped. "S'all over, too. The doctor says instead I should be making a nuisance of myself uptown, I would be better off in the store here. He was there before I could get home."