the jig would be up.
It was with a sigh of relief that he saw Morris go out to lunch at
half-past twelve, and almost immediately afterward Hill, Arkwright &
Thompson's truckman arrived with the goods. Abe superintended the
disposal of the packing cases in the cutting-room, and he was engaged in
opening them when Miss Cohen, the bookkeeper, entered.

"Mr. Potash," she said, "Mr. Perlmutter wants to see you in the
show-room."

"Did he come back from lunch so soon?" Abe asked.

"He came in right after he went out," she replied. "I guess he must be
sick. He looks sick."

Abe turned pale.

"I guess he found it out," he said to himself as he descended the stairs
and made for the show-room. When he entered he found Morris seated in a
chair with the first edition of an evening paper clutched in his hand.

"What's the matter, Mawruss?" Abe said.

Morris gulped once or twice and made a feeble attempt to brandish the
paper.

"Matter?" he croaked. "Nothing's the matter. Only, we are out
twenty-five hundred dollars. That's all."

"No, we ain't, Mawruss," Abe protested. "What we are out in one way we
make in another."

Morris sought to control himself, but his pent-up emotions gave
themselves vent.

"We do, hey?" he roared. "Well, maybe you think because I took your fool
advice this oncet that I'll do it again?"

He grew red in the face.

"Gambler!" he yelled. "Fool! You shed my blood! What? You want to ruin
me! Hey?"

Abe had expected a tirade, but nothing half as violent as this.

"Mawruss," he said soothingly, "don't take it so particular."

He might as well have tried to stem Niagara with a shovel.

"Ain't the cloak and suit business good enough for you?" Morris went on.
"Must you go throwing away money on stocks from stock exchanges?"

Abe scratched his head. These rhetorical questions hardly fitted the
situation, especially the one about throwing away money.

"Look-y here, Mawruss," he said, "if you think you scare me by this
theayter acting you're mistaken. Just calm yourself, Mawruss, and tell
me what you heard it. I ain't heard nothing."

For answer Morris handed him the evening paper.

"Sensational Failure in Wall Street," was the red-letter legend on the
front page. With bulging eyes Abe took in the import of the leaded type
which disclosed the news that Gunst & Baumer, promoters of Interstate
Copper, having boosted its price to five, were overwhelmed by a flood of
profit-taking. To support thei