ect me."

"I know you are my heaviest creditor," Louis Dishkes replied. "To my
sorrow I know it! If it wouldn't be for your rotten stickers which I got
in my place, might I would be doing a good business there to-day,
maybe!"

"_Schmooes_, Dishkes!" Sammet replied. "The reason you didn't done a
good business there is that you ain't no business man, Dishkes--and
anyhow, Dishkes, it don't do no good you should insult me!"

"What d'ye mean insult you?" Dishkes cried angrily. "I ain't insulting
you, Sammet. You are insulting me. You want me I should protect you and
let my other creditors go to the devil--ain't it? What d'ye take me
for--a crook?"

"That's all right," Sammet declared. "I wouldn't dandy words with you,
Dishkes. For the last time I am asking you: Will you take advantage of
the offer I am getting for you from the Mercantile Outlet Company, of
Nashville, for your entire stock? Otherwise I would got nothing more to
say to you."

There was a sound of scuffling feet as the party in the rear of the
store rose from their chairs.

"You ain't got no need to say nothing more to me, Mr. Sammet," Dishkes
announced firmly, "because I am through with you, Mr. Sammet. Your
account ain't due till to-morrow, and you couldn't do nothing till
Tuesday. Ain't it? So Tuesday morning early you should go ahead and sue
me, and if I couldn't raise money to save myself I will go _mechullah_;
but it'll be an honest _mechullah_, and that's all there is to it."

As Dishkes finished speaking Elkan drew Max and Yetta into the shadow
cast by a tall highboy; and, without noticing their presence, Leon
Sammet plunged toward the door and let himself out into the street.

Immediately Elkan tiptoed to the door and threw it wide open, after
which he shuffled his feet with sufficient noise to account for the
entrance of three people. Thereat Ringentaub emerged from behind the
partition.

"Hello, Ringentaub," Max cried. "I am bringing you here some customers."

Ringentaub bowed and coughed a warning to Dishkes and Mrs. Ringentaub,
who continued to talk in hoarse whispers behind the partition.

"What's the matter, Ringentaub?" Max Merech asked; "couldn't you afford
it here somehow a little light?"

Ringentaub reached into the upper darkness and turned on a gas jet which
had been burning a blue point of flame.

"I keep it without light here on purpose," he said, "on account Sundays
is a big night for the candlestick fakers up the street