“You don’t understand,” B. Rashkin explained.  “Them lots is an estate that was in litigation, and it’s only just been settled up; so that they couldn’t sell ’em no matter who would want to buy ’em.  Now I got ’em to entertain an offer of eighty-three thirty-three apiece, or twenty-five thousand for the three lots, all cash above a blanket mortgage of ten thousand dollars held by the Independent Order Mattai Aaron.  I seen it also Milton M. Sugarman, the attorney for the I. O. M. A., and he tells me that they would probably be agreeable to make a building loan on them lots of twenty-five thousand on each thirty-seven six front.”

“That don’t interest me none neither,” Abe replied, “because I ain’t in the building business, Rashkin; I am in the cloak and suit business.”

“Sure, I know,” said Rashkin; “but this is an opportunity which it wouldn’t occur again oncet in twenty years.”

“Don’t limit yourself, Rashkin,” Abe retorted.  “Make it fifty years.  It’s all the same to me, because I wouldn’t touch it, Rashkin.”

“But, Mr. Potash,” Rashkin broke in, “if your partner, Mr. Perlmutter, would be agreeable, wouldn’ you consider it?”

“What’s the use asking me hypocritical questions, Rashkin?” Abe replied.  “Mawruss would no more touch it as I would.  You don’t know what a crank I got it for a partner, Rashkin.  If I would just hint that I wanted to buy real estate, y’understand, that feller would go all up in the air.  And even if he would buy it with me yet, and we should lose maybe a little money, I would never hear the end of it.  That’s the way it goes with a feller like Mawruss Perlmutter, Rashkin.”

B. Rashkin put on his hat and rose sadly.

“Well, Mr. Potash,” he concluded, “all I can say is you lost a splendid opportunity.  Why, if I could only get it a feller to take over one of them thirty-seven six parcels, I would buy the other one myself and put up a fine building there?”

“I’m sure I ain’t stopping you, Rashkin,” Abe said.  “Go ahead and build, and I wish you all the luck you could want; and if you should get somebody else to take the other one and a half lots, I wish him the same and many of ’em.  Also, Rashkin, if I was a real estater I would be glad to fool away my time with you, Rashkin, but being as I am in the cloak business I—­you ain’t going, Rashkin, are you?”

Rashkin answered by banging the door behind him and Abe repaired to the cutting-room, where Morris Perlmutter was superintending the reception and disposal of piece goods.

“Who was that salesman you was talking to a while ago, Abe?” he asked innocently.

“That wasn’t no salesman, Mawruss; that was a loafer,” Abe replied.

“A loafer!” Morris said.  “He didn’t look like a loafer, Abe.  He looked like a real estater.”

“Well, Mawruss,” said Abe, “to me a real estater looks like a loafer, especially, Mawruss, when he comes around with a bum proposition like he got it.”