“Well, I might take two or three thousand dollars, a purchase-money mortgage, but no more,” Rashkin replied, as the waitress returned empty-handed.

“Rolls is all out,” she said.  “I’ll have to give you white bread.”

“All right,” Abe replied.

“Did you say Swiss cheese or store cheese?” she inquired mildly.

“Tongue!” Abe and B. Rashkin roared with one voice.

“Well, don’t get mad about it,” the waitress cried, as she whisked away toward the coffee urns.

“I’ll tell you the truth, Mr. Potash,” B. Rashkin continued.  “I give that house to a number of real estaters, already, and I’m considering a good offer from a feller what Ferdy Rothschild brings me.  The feller makes me a fine offer, Mr. Potash, only he wants me to take back a second mortgage of five thousand dollars; and I told Ferdy Rothschild if he could get his customer to make it all cash above a second mortgage of three thousand dollars I would consider it.  Ferdy says he expects his customer in to see him this afternoon, already, and he will let me know before I go home to-night.”

In this rare instance B. Rashkin was undergoing the novel experience of speaking the truth only slightly modified, for that very morning Ferdy Rothschild had produced a purchaser who was willing to pay forty-six thousand dollars for Rashkin’s house.  This deal the purchaser proposed to consummate by taking the property subject to a first mortgage of thirty-three thousand dollars, by executing a second mortgage of seven thousand dollars, and by paying the six thousand balance of the purchase price in cash.

B. Rashkin had told Ferdy that if the customer would agree to pay eight thousand five hundred dollars in cash and to reduce the second mortgage proportionately, the deal would be closed; and Ferdy had promised to let him know during the afternoon.

“Lookyhere, Rashkin,” Abe said at length, “what’s the use beating bushes around?  You know as well as I do that me and my partner don’t get along well together, and I would like to teach that sucker a lesson that he shouldn’t monkey no more with real estate, y’understand.  I’ll tell you right now, Rashkin, I would be willing to lose maybe a couple hundred dollars if I could get that house from you and sell it to the feller what makes the offer to Mawruss Perlmutter.”

“You and Perlmutter must be pretty good friends together,” Rashkin commented.  “But, anyhow, I am perfectly willing to help you all I can, because when a feller practically calls you a bloodsucker and a horse-thief, Mr. Potash, naturally you don’t feel too friendly toward him.  But one thing I got to say, Mr. Potash, and that is I couldn’t sell my house for a penny less than forty-eight thousand dollars.”

Abe put down his cup of coffee and stared at Rashkin.

“That’s a lot of money, Mr. Rashkin,” Abe said, “and that would mean pretty near twelve thousand cash.”