"Sammet Brothers sell the same garment for twelve-fifty," Milton hazarded. Sammet Brothers were customers of the elder Zwiebel, and Milton happened to remember the name.
Feigenbaum looked up and frowned.
"With me I ain't stuck on a feller what knocks a competitor's line," he said. "Sell your goods on their merits, young feller, and your customers would never kick. This garment looks pretty good to me already, Mr. Zwiebel, so if you got an order blank I'll give it you the particulars."
Miss Levy hastened to the office and returned with some order blanks which she handed to Milton. Then she retreated behind a cloak-rack while Milton wielded a lead pencil in a businesslike fashion. There she listened to Feigenbaum's dictation and unseen by him, she carefully wrote down his order.
At length Feigenbaum concluded and Miss Levy hastened from behind the rack.
"Oh, Mr. Feigenbaum," she said in order to create a diversion, "wasn't it you that wrote us about a tourist coat getting into your last shipment by mistake?"
"Me?" Feigenbaum cried. "Why, I ain't said no such thing."
"I thought you were the one," she replied as she slipped her transcription of Mr. Feigenbaum's order into Milton's hand. "It must have been somebody else."
"I guess it must," Feigenbaum commented. "Let me see what you got there, young feller."
Milton handed him Miss Levy's copy of the order and Feigenbaum read it with knit brows.