Sol plunged his fork into the slice of roast beef as though it were Klein himself, and he hacked at it so viciously that the gravy flew in every direction.

“Max,” he roared, clapping his handkerchief to his face, “what the devil you are bringing me here—­soup?”

It was at least five minutes before Sol had exhausted his stock of profanity, and when at length the tablecloth was changed and Abe had ministered to the front of his coat with a napkin dipped in water, Sol ceased to upbraid the waiter and resumed his tirade against his partner.

“Yes, Abe,” he said, “you are in luck.  You got a partner, y’understand, which he is a decent respectable feller.  I bet yer Mawruss would no more dream of overdrawing you, than he would fly in the air.”

“Wait till they gets to be popular, Sol,” Abe replied.  “You could take it from me, Sol, Mawruss would be the first one to buy one of them airyplanes, just the same like he bought that oitermobile yet.”

“That’s all right,” Sol said.  “Mawruss is a good live partner.  He sees people round him—­good, decent, respectable people, mind you—­is buying oitermobiles, Abe, and so he thinks he could buy one, too.  There ain’t no harm in that, Abe, so long as he keeps inside his drawing account, but so soon as one partner starts to take more as the other money out of the business, Abe, then there is right away trouble.  But certainly, Abe, Mawruss wouldn’t do nothing like that.”

“Sure not,” Abe replied, “because in the first place, Sol, he knows I wouldn’t stand for it, and in the second place, Mawruss ain’t out to do me, y’understand.  I will say for Mawruss this, Sol.  Of course a partner is a partner, Sol, and the best of partners behaves like cut-throats at times, but Mawruss was always white with me, Sol, and certainly I think a whole lot of that feller.  Just to show you, Sol, I got Miss Cohen to fix it up for us a statement of our drawing account which I got it right here in my breast pocket, and I ain’t even looked at it at all, so sure I am that everything is all O. K.”

“I bet yer you overdrew him yet,” Sol observed.

“Me, I ain’t such a big spender, Sol,” Abe replied as he unfolded the statement.  “I don’t even got to look at the statement, because I know we drew just the same amount.  Yes,—­here it is Sol.  Me, I drew six thousand two hundred dollars, and Mawruss drew—­six thousand two hundred and——. Well, what do you think for a sucker like that?”

“Why, what’s the matter, Abe?” Sol cried.

Abe’s face had grown white and his eyes glittered with anger.

“That’s a loafer for you!” he went on.  “That feller actually pocketed fifty-two dollars of my money.”

“Fifty-two dollars?” Sol repeated.  “What are you making such a fuss about fifty-two dollars for?”

“With you I suppose fifty-two dollars is nothing, Sol?” Abe retorted.  “I suppose you could pick up fifty-two dollars in the streets, Sol.  What?  Wait till I see that robber to-morrow.  I’ll fix him.  Actually, I thought that feller was above such things, Sol.”