“All right,” Morris replied.  “It’s you what goes on the road, not me, and you meet all the drummers.  Suggest somebody yourself.”

Abe pondered for a moment.

“There’s Louis Mintz,” he said finally.  “He works by Sammet Brothers.  He’s a high-priced man, Mawruss, but he’s worth it.”

“Sure he’s worth it,” Morris rejoined, “and he knows it, too.  I bet yer he’s making five thousand a year by Sammet Brothers.”

“I know it,” said Abe, “but his contract expires in a month from now, and it ain’t no cinch to work for Sammet Brothers, neither, Mawruss.  I bet yer Louis’ got throat trouble, talking into a customer them garments what Leon Sammet makes up, and Louis’ pretty well liked in the trade, too, Mawruss.”

“Well, why don’t you see him, Abe?”

“I’ll tell you the truth, Mawruss,” Abe replied.  “I did see him.  I offered him all what Sammet Brothers gives him, and I told him we make a better line for the price, but it ain’t no use.  Louis says a salesman’s got to work hard anyhow, so he may as well work a little harder, and he says, too, it spoils a man’s trade when he makes changes.”

Here a customer entered the store and Abe was busy for more than half an hour.  At the end of that time the customer departed and Morris returned to the show-room.

“Abe,” he said, “I got an idea.”

Abe looked up.

“More real estate?” he asked.

“Not more real estate, Abe,” Morris corrected, “but the same real estate.  When we’re stuck we’re stuck, Abe, ain’t it?”

Abe nodded.

“So I got an idea,” Morris went on, “that we go to Louis and tell him we give him the same money what Sammet Brothers give him, only we give him a bonus.”

“A bonus!” Abe cried.  “How much of a bonus?”

“A big bonus, Abe,” Morris replied.  “We’ll give him the house.”

Abe remained silent.

“It’ll look big, anyhow,” Morris continued.

“Look big!” Abe exclaimed.  “It is big.  It’s three thousand dollars.”

“Well, you can’t reckon stickers by what they cost,” Morris explained.  “It’s what they’ll sell for.”

“You’re right, Mawruss,” Abe commented bitterly.  “And that house wouldn’t sell for Confederate money.  I’ll see Louis Mintz to-night.”

Abe saw Louis that very evening, and they met by appointment at the store ten days later.  In the meantime Louis had inspected the house, and when he entered Potash & Perlmutter’s show-room his face wore none too cheerful an expression.

“Well, Louis,” Abe cried, “you come to tell us it’s all right.  Ain’t it?”

Louis shook his head.

“Abe,” he said, “the old saying is you should never look at a horse’s teeth what somebody gives you, but that house is pretty near vacant.”

“What of it?” Abe asked.  “It’s a fine house, ain’t it?”

“Sure, it’s a fine house,” Louis agreed.  “But what good is a fine house if you can’t rent it?  You can’t eat it, can you?”