reating
that boy ever since he was born, and he sure would go back to the way he
has been acting. Let the boy stay where he is, Max."

"Say, lookyhere, Potash," Max burst out, "what are you butting into my
affairs for? Ain't I competent to manage my own son?"

Abe deemed it the part of friendship to remain silent, but Max
misconstrued his reticence.

"O-o-h!" he exclaimed. "I see the whole business now. You got an
interest in this here pants factory and so you practically kidnap my
son. Do you know what I think? I think you are trying to jolly me into
letting him stay there because you expect maybe I would invest some
money in the business."

For two minutes Abe gulped convulsively and blinked at the Raincoat King
in stunned amazement. Then he rose slowly to his feet.

"All right, Koblin," he said. "I heard enough from you. I wash myself of
the entire matter. For my part you and your son could go to the devil;
and take it from me, it won't be your fault if he don't."

When Abe entered the firm's showroom that morning it was nearly
half-past eleven and Morris Perlmutter sat behind the pages of the
_Daily Cloak and Suit Record_ in a sulky perusal of the Arrival of
Buyers column. Before he looked up he permitted Abe to discard his coat
for an office jacket.

"You was taking a sea bath, Abe?" he said at length. "Ain't it? I
suppose we would pretty soon got to close up the store so's you could
take all the sea baths you want. What?"

Abe refrained from uttering a suitable rejoinder and made straight for
the office.

"Mawruss!" he yelled; "ain't the safe open yet?"

"Never mind is the safe open _oder_ not, Abe," Morris replied. "So long
as you are attending to business the way you are, Abe, it ain't
necessary the safe should be opened."

Abe grunted and squatted down in front of the combination. At length the
big doors swung open and he drew the box of cigars out of the middle
compartment.

Morris looked on with ill-concealed curiosity while Abe took a banded
Invincible from his waistcoat pocket and restored it to the box whence
it originally came.

"What's all that for?" Morris asked.

"That's a souvenir from a pleasant morning," Abe replied as he thrust
the box of cigars back into the safe and slammed the doors. He was about
to return to the showroom, when the telephone bell rang and Morris took
the receiver from the hook.

"Hello!" he said. "Yes, this is Potash & Perlmutter. He's right here.
Abe, Max K