“All right,” Abe said.  “Go ahead and pick out your goods.”

For two solid hours M. Garfunkel went over Potash & Perlmutter’s line and, selecting hundred lots of their choicest styles, bought a three-thousand-dollar order.

“We ain’t got but half of them styles in stock,” said Morris, “but we can make ’em up right away.”

“Then, them goods what you got in stock, Mawruss,” said Garfunkel, “I must have prompt by to-morrow, and the others in ten days.”

“That’s all right,” Morris replied, and when M. Garfunkel left the store Abe and Morris immediately set about the assorting of the ordered stock.

“Look a-here, Mawruss,” Abe said, “I thought you was going to see about that girl for my Rosie.”

“Why, so I was, Abe,” Morris replied; “I’ll attend to it right away.”

He went to the telephone and rang up his wife, and five minutes later returned to the front of the store.

“Ain’t that the funniest thing, Abe,” he said.  “My Minnie speaks to the girl, and the girl says she got a cousin what’s just going to quit her job, Abe.  She’ll be the very girl for your Rosie.”

“I don’t know, Mawruss,” Abe replied.  “My Rosie is a particular woman.  She don’t want no girl what’s got fired for being dirty or something like that, Mawruss.  We first want to get a report on her and find out what she gets fired for.”

“You’re right, Abe,” Morris said.  “I’ll find out from Lina to-night.”

Once more they fell to their task of assorting and packing the major part of Garfunkel’s order, and by six o’clock over fifteen hundred dollars’ worth of goods was ready for delivery.

“We’ll ship them to-morrow,” Abe said, as they commenced to lock up for the night, “and don’t forget about that girl, Mawruss.”

On his way downtown the next morning Abe met Leon Sammet, senior member of the firm of Sammet Brothers.  Between Abe and Leon existed the nominal truce of competition, which in the cloak and suit trade implies that while they cheerfully exchanged credit information from their office files they maintained a constant guerilla warfare for the capture of each other’s customers.

Now, M. Garfunkel had been a particularly strong customer of Sammet Brothers, and since Abe assumed that M. Garfunkel had dropped Sammet Brothers in favor of Potash & Perlmutter his manner toward Leon was bland and apologetic.

“Well, Leon,” he said, “how’s business?”

Leon’s face wrinkled into a smile.

“It could be better, of course, Abe,” he said, “but we done a tremendous spring trade, anyhow, even though we ain’t got no more that sucker Louis Grossman working for us.  We shipped a couple of three-thousand-dollar orders last week.  One of ’em to Strauss, Kahn & Baum, of Fresno.”

These were old customers of Potash & Perlmutter, and Abe winced.

“They was old customers of ours, Leon,” he said, “but they done such a cheap class of trade we couldn’t cut our line enough to please ’em.”