eived this ultimatum in so crest-fallen a manner that
Rothman's flinty heart was touched.

"Lookyhere, Mr. Zwiebel," he said, "I got a boy, too, only, _Gott sei
dank_, the young feller ain't a loafer, y'understand. He's now in his
third year in law school, and I never had a bit of trouble with that
boy. Because I don't want you to feel bad, Mr. Zwiebel, but if I do
say it myself, that boy is a good boy, y'understand; none better, Mr.
Zwiebel, I don't care where you would go. That boy comes home,
y'understand, every night, y'understand, except the night when he goes
to lodge meeting, and he takes down his books and learns it till his
mommer's got to say to him: 'Ferdy, _lieben_, you would ruin your
eyes.' That boy is only twenty-three, Mr. Zwiebel, and already he is
way up in the I.O.M.A. They give that young feller full charge for
their annual ball two years already, and----"

"Excuse me, Mr. Rothman," Zwiebel broke in. "I got to get back to my
business, and so, therefore, I want to make you a final proposition.
Take the boy into your place and I would give you each week fifteen
dollars you should pay him for his wages."

"I wouldn't positively do nothing of the kind," Rothman cried.

"And"--Mr. Zwiebel said as though he were merely extending his remark
instead of voicing an idea that had just occurred to him--"and I will
invest in your business two thousand dollars which you would only pay
me savings-bank interest."

Rothman's eyes glittered, but he only laughed by way of reply.

"Ain't that a fair proposition?"

"You must think I need money bad in my business," Rothman commented.

"Every man in the cloak and suit business needs money this year,
Rothman," said Zwiebel, who was in the cigar business. His specialty
was the manufacture of cigars for the entertainment of cloak and suit
customers, and his own financial affairs accurately reflected
conditions in the woman's outer garment trade. For instance, when cloak
buyers are anxious to buy goods the frugal manufacturer withholds his
hospitality; but if the demand for cloaks is slack, then M to Z
customers are occasionally regaled with cigars from the "gilt-edged"
box. This season Zwiebel was selling more and better cigars than for
many years past, and he made his deductions accordingly.

"Yes, Mr. Rothman," Zwiebel concluded, "there's plenty cloak and suit
men would be glad to get a young feller like my Milton on such terms
what I offer it."

"Well, why don'