d calmly, "I got you just where I want you.
Feder is willing to go on the stand and swear that you said them goods
was up to sample, and this here is the sample. Any feller what knows
anything about the cloak and suit trade could tell in a minute that
these here samples costed twenty-five dollars to make up. Forty-eight
times twenty-five is twelve hundred dollars, and so sure as you are
sitting there, Feinholz, Abe and me will commence suit against you for
twelve hundred dollars the first thing to-morrow morning, unless we get
it a certified check from the Farmers and Ranchers' Insurance Company
for six hundred dollars, which is the price what you agreed to pay us
for the garments."

A moment later Blaustein and Abe followed him to the sidewalk.

"Well, Blaustein," Morris asked as they walked to the elevated railroad,
on their way home, "what do you think of it all? Huh?"

"I think it's a good bluff you are making," Blaustein replied, "but it
may work. So, if you come right down to my office I'll fix up your proof
of loss and send it up to him this afternoon."

The next morning Abe and Morris reached their loft a good hour ahead of
the letter-carrier, and when he entered they both made a grab for the
mail which he handed them. Morris won out, and as he shuffled the
letters with the deftness of long pinochle experience he emitted a cry.

"What is it?" Abe asked.

For answer Morris tore open a long yellow envelope and flicked it up and
down between his thumb and finger until a small piece of paper fluttered
to the carpet. Abe swooped down on it immediately and ran to the office,
hugging it to his breast. It was a certified check for six hundred
dollars.

"Well, Abe," Morris said as he filled out a deposit slip of the
Kosciusko Bank, "there's one feller comes out of this deal pretty lucky,
all considering."

"Who's that, Mawruss?" Abe asked.

"The rutt honn Earl of Warrington," Morris replied.

CHAPTER XIV

Abe Potash entered the firm's private office one morning in
mid-September and deliberately removed his hat and coat. As he did so he
emitted groans calculated to melt the heart of the most hardened medical
practitioner, but Morris Perlmutter remained entirely unmoved.

"Well, Abe," he said, "you've been making a hog of yourself again. Ain't
it? Sol Klinger says he seen you over to the Harlem Winter Garden, and I
suppose you bought it such a fine supper you couldn't sleep a wink all
night. What?"