ultimatum, and Wolfson replaced
the checkbook in his vest pocket and drew a roll of bills from his
trousers. He peeled off two hundred dollars and handed it to
Borrochson.

"You see," he said, "I trust you. Ain't it?"

"You got to trust me," Borrochson replied, as Wolfson rose to examine
the safe.

"Who did you get to look at the safe?" he asked Borrochson.

"Experts from everywhere," Borrochson replied. "I must of got ten
fellers here from every big safe house in town. I can show you the
bills already."

Wolfson waved his hand.

"I don't want to see 'em," he said. "But on the front of the safe I see
it, J. Daiches, maker, Grand Street, New York. Did you have him to look
at it?"

"Daiches!" Borrochson repeated with a laugh. "I should say I didn't get
him to look at it. Why, that feller Daiches don't know no more about
safes than I do about aljibbery what they learn it young fellers by
night school. He come from Minsk ten years ago and made it a little
money as an operator on shirts. So he buys out a feller in Grand Street
and goes into the safe business since only a year ago."

"I take a chance on him, anyhow," Wolfson declared. "So do me the
favour and go to the saloon on the corner and ring him up."

Borrochson shrugged his shoulders.

"You're up against a bum proposition in Daiches, Wolfson," he said,
"because that feller don't know nothing about safes."

"But he's in the safe business, ain't he? And a feller can learn a
whole lot about a business inside a year."

"A horse could pull it a truckload of books for a hundred years,
Wolfson," Borrochson said, "and when he got through he wouldn't know no
more what's inside of them books than when he started; ain't it?"

"'S enough, Borrochson," Wolfson said, "if you're afraid to trust me
alone in the store here while you go and telephone, why we can lock up
the store and I will go with you."

Accordingly they repaired to the sabbatical entrance of the nearest
liquor saloon and rang up Daiches' store in Grand Street. They had no
difficulty in speaking to him, for on the lower end of Grand Street
business goes forward on Sunday as briskly as on weekdays.

"Mr. Daiches," Borrochson said, "this is Philip Borrochson from Third
Avenue. Could you come up by my store and look over my safe?"

"I ain't in the market for no safes, Borrochson," Daiches replied at
the other end of the telephone wire.

"Not to buy no safes," Borrochson corrected. "There's a feller