den," he said, "what for you are telling me that Sternsilver
wouldn't get a cent with Bessie? And you are trying to get me I should
be satisfied with a hundred dollars yet. Honestly, Mr. Seiden, I am
surprised at you."

"_Schmooes_, Fatkin!" Seiden protested. "I never promised to give him
nothing. Dreams he got it."

Sternsilver rose from his seat.

"Do you mean to told me that a greenhorn like him you would give three
hundred dollars," he asked, "and me you wouldn't give nothing?"

"You!" Fatkin bellowed. "What are you? You are coming to me throwing a
bluff that you got a relation by the name of Sternsilver, which he
_ganvers_ ten thousand rubles from Moser's Bank, in Kovno; and this
afternoon yet, I find out the feller's name was Steinsilver--not
Sternsilver; which he ain't got a relation in the world, y'understand.
Faker!"

Sternsilver nodded his head slowly.

"Faker, am I?" he said. "All right, Mr. Fatkin; if I am a faker I will
show you what I would do. You and this here Seiden fix it up between
you, because I am all of a sudden sick in the hospital, that you steal
away my Bessie and the three hundred dollars also. _Schon gut!_ I would
sue you both in the courts _und fertig_!"

"Sternsilver is right, in a way," Seiden said, "even though he is a
bum. What for did you write me this letter, Fatkin?"

"Me write you that letter, Mr. Seiden!" Fatkin protested as he looked
at the document in question. "Why, Mr. Seiden, I can't write printing.
It is all I can do to write writing. And, besides, Mr. Seiden, until
you are telling me about getting married, the idee never enters my head
at all."

There could be no mistaking Fatkin's sincerity, and Seiden turned to
Sternsilver with a threatening gesture.

"Out!" he cried. "Out of here before I am sending for a policeman to
give you arrested."

"Don't make me no bluffs, Seiden!" Sternsilver answered calmly. "Either
you would got to settle with me now _oder_ I would go right upstairs
and tell them commission houses and customers which you got there all
about it. What do you take me for, Seiden--a greenhorn?"

"Fatkin," Seiden commanded, "do you hear what I am telling you? Take
this loafer and throw him into the street."

"Me?" Fatkin said. "What are you talking nonsense, Mr. Seiden? I should
throw him into the street when I am standing to lose on the coat alone
ten dollars!"

Seiden looked at Fatkin and the validity of his objection was at once
apparent.

"_Nu