"Yes?" Mr. Rothman said. "All right. Let him take down his coat and he'll find a feather duster in the corner by them misses' reefers. I never see nothing like the way the dust gets in here."
Mr. Zwiebel fairly beamed. This was a splendid beginning.
"Go ahead, Milton," he said; "take down your coat and get to work."
But Milton showed no undue haste.
"Lookyhere, pop," he said. "I thought I was coming down here to sell goods."
"Sell goods!" Rothman exclaimed. "Why, you was never in the cloak and suit business before. Ain't it?"
"Sure, I know," Milton replied, "but I can sell goods all right."
"Not here, you couldn't," Rothman said. "Here, before a feller sells goods, he's got to learn the line, y'understand, and there ain't no better way to learn the line, y'understand, than by dusting it off."
Milton put his hat on and jammed it down with both hands.
"Then that settles it," he declared.