Fatkin.

As for Sam and Max, they missed their old customer both financially and
socially.

"Yes, Sam," Max said the day after Blaukopf's fire, "things ain't the
same around here like in former times already."

"If you mean in the office, Max," Sam said, "I'm glad they ain't.
That's a fine bookkeeper we got it, Max, and a fine woman, too. Ain't
it a shame and a disgrace for young fellers nowadays, Max, that a fine
woman like Miss Meyerson is already thirty-five and should be single?
My Sarah is crazy about her. Her and Sarah goes to a matinee last
Saturday afternoon together and Sarah asks her to dinner to-morrow."

Max nodded.

"With some bookkeepers, Sam," he said, "you couldn't do such things.
Right away they would take advantage. Miss Meyerson, that's something
else again. She takes an interest in our business, Sam. Even a grouch
like Aaron Pinsky she treated good."

"I bet yer," Sam replied. "I seen Elenbogen in the subway this morning
and he tells me Aaron goes around blowing about paying a thousand
dollars to a professor uptown and he gives him a medicine which cures
his cough completely. I bet yer that's the same medicine which he got
it originally from Miss Meyerson."

"I bet yer," Max agreed as the telephone bell rang. Sam hastened to
answer it.

"Hallo!" he said. "Yes, this is Zaretsky & Fatkin. You want to speak to
Miss Meyerson? All right. Miss Meyerson! Telephone!"

Miss Meyerson came from her office and took the receiver from Sam.

"Hello," she said. "Who is this, please?"

The answer made her clap her hand over the transmitter.

"It's Aaron Pinsky," she said to Max, and both partners sprang to their
feet.

"What does he want?" Sam hissed.

Miss Meyerson waved them to silence and resumed her conversation over
the 'phone.

"Hello, Mr. Pinsky," she said. "What can I do for you?"

She listened patiently to Aaron's narrative of the fire in Blaukopf's
drug store, and when he had concluded she winked furtively at her
employers.

"Mr. Pinsky," she said, "won't you repeat that over again? I didn't
understand it."

Once more Aaron explained the details of the prescription book's
incineration, and again Miss Meyerson winked.

"Mr. Pinsky," she said, "I can't make out what you say. Why don't you
stop in here at twelve o'clock? Mr. Zaretsky is going to Newark and Mr.
Fatkin will be out to lunch."

She listened carefully for a few minutes and then her face broke into a
broad grin.

"All r