Rabin be looking for us to buy his house?"

"He ain't looking for us, Abe," Morris went on. "That's just the point.
I was by Harris Rabin's house last night, and I seen no less than three
real-estaters there. They all want that house, Abe, and if they want it,
why shouldn't we? Ike Magnus makes Harris an offer of forty-eight
thousand five hundred while I was sitting there already, but Harris
wants forty-nine for it. I bet yer, Abe, we could get it for forty-eight
seven-fifty--three thousand cash above the mortgages."

"I suppose, Mawruss, you got three thousand lying loose around your
pants' pocket. What?"

"Three thousand to a firm like us is nothing, Abe. I bet yer I could go
in and see Feder of the Kosciusko Bank and get it for the asking. We
ain't so poor, Abe, but what we can buy a bargain when we see it."

Abe shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, Mawruss, if I got to hear about Harris Rabin's house for the
rest of my life, all right. I'm agreeable, Mawruss; only, don't ask me
to go to no lawyers' offices nor nothing, Mawruss. There's enough to do
in the store, Mawruss, without both of us loafing around lawyers'
offices."

A more grudging acquiescence than this would have satisfied Morris, and,
without pausing for a cigar, he put on his hat and made straight for
Harris Rabin's place of business. The Equinox Clothing Company of which
Harris Rabin was president, board of directors and sole stockholder,
occupied the third loft of a building on Walker Street. There was no
elevator, and as Morris walked upstairs he encountered Ike Magnus at the
first landing.

"Hallo, Mawruss!" Ike cried. "Are you buying clothing now? I thought you
was in the cloak and suit business."

"Whatever business I'm in, Ike," Morris replied, "I'm in my own
business, Ike; and what is somebody else's business ain't my business,
Ike. That's the way I feel about it."

He plodded slowly up the next flight, and there stood Samuel Michaelson,
another real-estate operator.

"Ah, Mr. Perlmutter!" Samuel exclaimed. "You get around to see the
clothing trade once in a while, too. Ain't it?"

"I get around to see all sorts of trade, Mr. Michaelson," Morris
rejoined. "I got to get around and hustle to make a living, Mr.
Michaelson, because, Mr. Michaelson, I can't make no living by loafing
around street corners and buildings, Mr. Michaelson."

"Don't mention it," said Mr. Michaelson as Morris started up the last
flight. When he entered the Equinox