"Put on your hat and take the old man home," he said.
"One minute, Sidney," Sam said. "In the first place, Max, before we talk about going home, I want to ask you a question: How much does Falkstatter, Fein & Company owe us?"
"Us?" Max repeated.
"Well—you?" Sam replied.
"What's that your business?" Max retorted.
"What is that my business?" Sam gasped. "A question! Did you ever hear the like, Sidney? He asks me what it is my business supposing Falkstatter, Fein & Company owes us a whole lot of money! Ain't that a fine way to talk, Sidney?"
Sidney's pasty face coloured and he bit his lips nervously.
"Max is right, popper," he said. "You ain't got no call to come down here and interfere in our affairs. I'll put on my hat and go right home with you."
It was now Sam's turn to blush, and he did so to the point of growing purple with rage.
"Don't trouble yourself," he cried; "because I ain't going home!"