a
tablespoonful every four hours, and when it's all gone I'll get you
some more."

She handed the bottle to Aaron, who thrust it into his overcoat-pocket.

"Thanks; much obliged," he said hoarsely.

"Don't mention it," she commented as she returned to the office.

Aaron looked after her in blank surprise. "Sure not," he muttered,
starting off for the showroom in long, frightened strides.

"Say, Max," he said, "what's the matter with that girl? Is she
_verrueckt_?"

"_Verrueckt!_" Max exclaimed. "What d'ye mean--_verrueckt_? Say, lookyhere,
Aaron, you should be careful what you are saying about a lady like Miss
Meyerson. She already found where Louis Sen makes mistakes, which _Gott
weiss wie vile_ it costed us yet. You shouldn't say nothing about that
girl, Aaron, because she is a cracker-jack, A Number One bookkeeper."

"Did I say she wasn't?" Aaron replied. "I am only saying she acts to me
very funny, Max. She gives me this here bottle of medicine just now."

He poked the package at Max, who handled it gingerly, as though it
might explode at any minute.

"What d'ye give it to me for?" he cried. "I don't want it."

"Well, I don't want it, neither," Aaron replied. "She ain't got no
right to act fresh like that and give me medicine which I ain't asked
for at all."

He looked exceedingly hurt and voiced his indignation with a tremendous
whoop, the forerunner of a dozen minor whoops which shaded off into a
succession of wheezes. It seemed to Max and Sam that Aaron would never
succeed in catching his breath, and just when he appeared to be at his
ultimate gasp Miss Meyerson ran up with a tablespoon. She snatched the
bottle from Max's grasp and, tearing off the wrapping paper, she drew
the cork and poured a generous dose.

"Take this right now," she commanded, pressing the spoon to Aaron's
lips. With a despairing glance at Max he swallowed the medicine, and
immediately afterward made a horrible grimace.

"T'phooee!" he cried. "What the--what are you trying to do--poison me?"

"That won't poison you," Miss Meyerson declared. "It'll do you good.
All he needs is about six more doses, Mr. Fatkin, and he'd be rid of
that cough in no time."

Max nodded.

"Miss Meyerson is right, Aaron," he said. "You ought to take care of
yourself."

Aaron wiped his eyes and his moustache with his handkerchief.

"You ain't got maybe a little _schnapps_ in your desk, Max?" he said.

"_Schnapps_ is the worst thing you could t