_Shadchen_ was
Charles Fischko, but the _Chosan_ ain't Elkan Lubliner by a damsight."

It was now Polatkin's turn to gloat, and he shook his head slowly up and
down.

"So, Scheikowitz," he said, "you are trying to fix up a _Shidduch_
between Elkan and Miss Maslik without telling me a word about it, and
you get the whole thing so mixed up that it is a case of trying to sit
between two chairs! You come down _mit_ a big bump and I ain't got no
sympathy for you neither."

"What was the feller's name?" Scheikowitz demanded hoarsely of Rashkind,
who was straightening out his tie and smoothing his rumpled hair.

"It's a funny quincidence," Rashkind replied; "but you remember, Mr.
Polatkin, I was talking to you the other day about Julius Flixman?"

"Yes," Polatkin said, and his heart began to thump in anticipation of
the answer.

"Well, Julius Flixman, as I told you, sold out his store to a feller by
the name Max Kapfer," Rashkind said and paused again.

"_Nu!_" Scheikowitz roared. "What of it?"

"Well, this here Max Kapfer is engaged to be married to Miss Birdie
Maslik," Rashkind concluded; and when Scheikowitz looked from Rashkind
toward his partner the latter had already proceeded more than halfway to
the telephone.

"And that's what your _Shadchen_ done for you, Mr. Scheikowitz!"
Rashkind said as he put on his hat. He walked to the elevator and rang
the bell.

"Yes, Mr. Scheikowitz," Rashkind added, "as a _Shadchen_, maybe I am a
button salesman; but I'd a whole lot sooner be a button salesman as a
thief and don't you forget it!"

After the elevator had borne Rashkind away Scheikowitz went back to the
office in time to hear Marcus engaged in a noisy altercation with the
telephone operator of the Prince Clarence Hotel.

"What d'ye mean he ain't there?" he bellowed. "With you it's always the
same--I could never get nobody at your hotel."

He hung up the receiver with force almost sufficient to wreck the
instrument.

"That'll do, Polatkin!" Scheikowitz said. "We already got half our
furniture smashed."

"Did I done it?" Polatkin growled--the allusion being to the chair
demolished by Scheikowitz on the previous day.

"You was the cause of it," Scheikowitz retorted; "and, anyhow, who are
you ringing up at the Prince Clarence?"

"I'm ringing up that feller Kapfer," Polatkin replied. "I want to tell
that sucker what I think of him."

Then it was that Kapfer's theory as to the effect of his engagement on
h