versy--"the fact is, Mr. Scheikowitz,
yesterday I am taking pity on the feller on account he is looking sick;
and I took him into Wasserbauer's and invited him he should eat a little
something."

Here he paused and licked his lips maliciously.

"And though I don't want to say nothing against the feller, understand
me," he continued, "he begins right away to talk about horseracing."

"Horseracing?" Polatkin cried.

Flaxberg nodded and made a gesture implying more plainly than the words
themselves: "Can you beat it?"

"Horseracing!" Scheikowitz repeated. "Well, what do you think of that
for a lowlife bum?"

"And when I called him down for gambling, Mr. Polatkin, he walks right
out, so independent he is. Furthermore, though it's none of my business,
Mr. Polatkin," Flaxberg went on, "Markulies tells me this morning early
the same story like he tells you--before he knew the goods was missing
even."

"Sure, I believe you," Polatkin retorted. "He was getting the whole
thing fixed up beforehand. That's the kind of _Rosher_ he is."

As he spoke Markulies entered, and there followed on his heels the
short, stout figure of Marx Feinermann.

"What did I told you?" Markulies cried. "The feller ain't home sick at
all. He eats his supper last night, and this morning he is got two eggs
for his breakfast even."

"S'nough, Markulies!" Polatkin interrupted. "You got too much to say for
yourself. Sit down, Feinermann, and tell us what is the reason Elkan
ain't here this morning."

"You tell me and I would tell you," Feinermann replied. "All I know is
the feller leaves my house the usual time this morning; only before he
goes he acts fresh to my wife like anything, Mr. Polatkin. He kicks the
coffee ain't good, even when my wife is giving him two eggs to his
breakfast anyhow. What some people expects for three-fifty a week you
wouldn't believe at all!"

"What do you mean--three-fifty a week?" Polatkin demanded. "He pays your
wife five dollars a week _schon_ six months ago already. He told me so
himself."

"I ain't responsible for what that boy tells you," Feinermann said
stolidly. "All I know is he pays me three-fifty a week; and you would
think he is used to eating chicken every day from _zu Hause_ yet, the
way he is all the time kicking about his food."

Markulies snorted indignantly.

"He should got the _Machshovos_ Mrs. Kaller hands it to me," he
said--"_gekochte Brustdeckel_ day in, day out; and then I am accused
th