Louis nodded and Trinkmann glared triumphantly at his visitors.
"Then if I told him to ring up Greenberg & Company about the cigars to-morrow morning, understand me," he cried, "how could it be possible that he quits me this afternoon?"
"But, Mr. Trinkmann," Louis protested, "you did told me I should quit this afternoon."
"Dummer Esel!" Trinkmann exclaimed. "Couldn't I open my mouth in my own restaurant at all?"
"Well, if that's the case," Ringentaub said, "then Louis could come to work by me. Ain't that right, Louis?"
Louis looked at Max Maikafer, whose right eyelid fluttered encouragingly.
"And I would pay him twenty-eight dollars a month," Ringentaub continued, "and guarantee to keep him a year. Is that satisfactory, Louis?"
Louis' tongue clove to the roof of his mouth, but he managed to enunciate a monosyllable of assent.
"That's all right, Mr. Ringentaub," Trinkmann declared; "I would pay him thirty dollars a month and keep him for a year and longer if he wants to stay."
Louis' gaze wandered from Max Maikafer to Trinkmann, and his lower lip jutted out and trembled with gratitude.