“I guess I’ll go upstairs, and see what the boys is doing in the cutting-room, Leon,” he said, and made a hasty exit.

“Not that Louis Grossman ain’t a good cutting-room foreman, too, Abe,” said Leon, “but we’re just getting in some new piece-goods and Barney wants to check ’em off.  But I ain’t asked you yet what we can do for you?  A recommendation, maybe?  Our credit files is open to you, Abe.”

Abe pushed his hat back from his forehead and mopped his brow.  Then he sat down and lit a cigar.

“Leon,” he commenced, “what’s the use of making a lot of talk about it.  I’m going to talk to you man to man, Leon, and no monkey-business about it nor nothing.  I’m going to be plain and straightforward, Leon, and tell it to you right from the start what I want.  I don’t believe in no beating bushes around, Leon, and when I say a thing I mean it.  I got to talk right out, Leon.  That’s the kind of man I am.”

“All right, Abe,” Leon said.  “Don’t spring it on me too sudden, though.”

“Well,” Abe continued, “it’s this way.”

He gave one last puff at his cigar.

“Leon,” he said, “how much will you take for Louis Grossman?”

“Take!” Leon shouted.  “Take!  Why, Abe——­”

He stopped suddenly, and, recovering his composure just in the nick of time, remained silent.

“I know, Leon, he’s a valuable man,” Abe said earnestly, “but I’m willing to be fair, Leon.  Of course I ain’t a hog, and I don’t think you are.”

“No, I ain’t,” Leon replied quite calmly; “I ain’t a hog, and so I say I wouldn’t take nothing for him, Abe, because, Abe, if I told you what I would take for him, Abe, then, maybe, you might have reason for calling me a hog.”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t, Leon,” Abe protested.  “I told you I know he’s a valuable man, so I want you should name a price.”

“I should name a price!” Leon cried.  “Why, Abe, I’m surprised at you.  If I go to a man to sell something what I like to get rid of it, and he don’t want, then I name the price.  But if a man comes to me to buy something what I want to keep, and what he’s got to have, Abe, then he names the price.  Ain’t it?”

Abe looked critically at the end of his smoldering cigar.

“Well, Leon,” he said at length, “if I must name a price, I suppose I must.  Now I know you will think me crazy, Leon, but I want to get a good designer bad, Leon, and so I say”—­here he paused to note the effect—­“five hundred dollars.”

Leon held out his hand.

“I guess you got to excuse me, Abe,” he said.  “I’d like it first rate to stay here and visit with you all morning but I got work to do, and so I hope you’ll excuse me.”

“Seven hundred and fifty,” Abe said.

“Fifteen hundred dollars,” Leon replied quite firmly.

For twenty minutes Abe’s figure rose and Leon’s fell until they finally met at ten hundred thirty-three, thirty-three.