“What do we care about the Fire Insurance Exchange?” Feinholz broke in.  “The Farmers and Ranchers’ ain’t members of the Fire Insurance Exchange.  We got a license to do business from the Superintendent of Insurance, and we don’t give a cent for the Fire Insurance Exchange.  We insured it the loft, and the goods was burnt in the freight elevator.”

Abe jumped to his feet.

“Do you mean,” he cried, “that you ain’t going to pay us nothing for our fire?”

“That’s what I mean,” Feinholz declared.

Morris turned to Abe.

“Come, Abe,” he said, “we’ll take Feder’s advice.”

“Feder’s advice?” Feinholz repeated.  “You mean that feller what I seen it in your store this morning?”

“That’s what I mean,” Morris replied.  “Feder says to us we should take it his lawyers, McMaster, Peddle & Crane, and he would see to it that they wouldn’t charge us much.”

Feinholz smiled.

“But the Farmers and Ranchers’ Insurance Company got also a good lawyer,” he said triumphantly.

“Maybe they have,” Morris admitted, “but we ain’t got nothing to do with the Farmers and Ranchers’ Insurance Company now.  We take it Feder’s lawyers and sue you, Feinholz.  Feder hears it all what you got to say, and he is willing to go on the stand and swear that you says that the goods was all right and the sample was all right.  I guess when a banker and a gentleman like Feder swears something you could get all the Henry D. Feldmans in the world and it wouldn’t make no difference.”

Feinholz passed his hand over his forehead and breathed hard.

“Maybe we could settle the matter, Rudy,” he said to his nephew, “if the other companies what they are insured by would contribute their share.”

“The other companies,” Morris announced, “is got nothing to do with it.  You fired them goods back at us, and that’s the reason why they got damaged.  So, we wouldn’t ask for a cent from the other companies.”

“Then it is positively all off,” cried Feinholz as one of his saleswomen entered.  She held a familiar garment in her hand, and in the dim light of Feinholz’s private office the buttons and soutache with which the cape was adorned sparkled like burnished gold.

“Mr. Feinholz,” she said, “a lady saw this on one of the racks and she wants to know how much it costs.”

Morris eyed the cape for one hesitating moment, and then he sprang to his feet and snatched it from the astonished saleswoman.

“You tell the customer,” he said, “that this here cape ain’t for sale.”

He rolled it into a tight bundle and thrust it under his coat.

“Now, Feinholz,” he declared 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.”