his feller, let him give us a recommendation in writing, y'understand,
and I am satisfied we should give this here young Schenkmann a trial. He
could only get into us oncet, Abe, so go right over there and see
Linkheimer, and if in writing he would give us a guaranty the feller is
honest, go ahead and hire him."

"Right away I couldn't do it, Mawruss," Abe said. "When I left
Linkheimer in the subway this morning he said he was going over to
Newark and he wouldn't be back till to-night. I'll stop in there the
first thing to-morrow morning."

With this ultimatum, Abe proceeded to the back of the loft and
personally attended to the shipment of ten garments to a customer in
Cincinnati. Under his supervision a stock boy placed the garments in a
wooden packing box, and after the first top board was in position Abe
took a wire nail and held it 'twixt his thumb and finger point down on
the edge of the case. Then he poised the hammer in his right hand and
carefully closing one eye he gauged the distance between the upraised
hammer and the head of the nail. At length the blow descended, and
forthwith Abe commenced to dance around the floor in the newborn agony
of a smashed thumb.

It was while he was putting the finishing touches on a bandage that made
up in bulk what it lacked in symmetry that Morris entered.

"What's the matter, Abe?" he cried. "Did you hurted yourself?"

Abe transfixed his partner with a malevolent glare.

"No, Mawruss," he said, as he started for the front of the store, "I
ain't hurted myself at all. I'm just tying this here handkerchief on my
thumb to remind myself what a fool I got it for a partner."

Morris waited till Abe had nearly reached the door.

"I don't got to tie something on my thumb to remind myself of that,
Abe," he said.

* * * * *

Ever since the birth of his son it had seemed to Morris that the Lenox
Avenue express service had grown increasingly slow. Nor did the evening
papers contain half the interesting news of his early married life, and
he could barely wait until the train had stopped at One Hundred and
Sixteenth Street before he was elbowing his way to the platform.

On the Monday night of his partner's mishap he made his accustomed dash
from the subway station to his home on One Hundred and Eighteenth
Street, confident that as soon as his latchkey rattled in the door Mrs.
Perlmutter and the baby would be in the hall to greet him; but on this