“Any one what sold that house once, Abe,” Louis rejoined, “don’t want it back again.”

At length, when Louis was absent on a business trip some three months before the expiration of his contract, Abe approached Morris in the show-room and mooted the subject of taking back the house.

“That house is a sticker, Mawruss,” he said, “and we certainly shouldn’t let Louis suffer by it.  The boy done well by us, and we don’t want to lose him.”

“Well, Abe,” Morris replied, “the way I look at it, we should wait till his time is pretty near up.  Maybe he will renew the contract without our taking back the house, Abe; but if the worst comes to the worst, Abe, we give him what he spent on the house and take it back, providing he renews the contract for a couple of years.  Ain’t it?”

Abe nodded doubtfully.

“Maybe you’re right, Mawruss,” he said; “but the boy done good for us, Mawruss.  We made it a big profit by him this year already, and I don’t want him to think that we ain’t doing the right thing by him.”

“Since when was you so soft-hearted, Abe?” Morris asked satirically; and when Louis came back from the road, a week later, no mention was made of the house until Louis himself broached the topic.

“Look’y here, Abe,” Louis said, “what are you going to do for me about that house?  Counting the rent I collected and the money I laid out for carrying charges, I’m in the hole eight hundred and fifty dollars already.”

“Do for you, Louis!” Morris replied.  “Why, what can we do for you?  Why don’t you fix it up like this, Louis?  Why don’t you make one last campaign among the real-estaters, and then if you don’t succeed maybe we can do something.”

“That’s right, Louis,” Abe said.  “Just try it and see what comes of it.”

Then Abe handed Louis a cigar and dismissed the subject, which never again arose until Louis was on his final trip.

“Ain’t it funny, Mawruss,” Abe said, the morning of Louis’ expected return—­“ain’t it funny he ain’t mentioned that house to us since we spoke to him the last time he was home?”

“I know it,” Morris replied, “but you needn’t worry, Abe.  It says in the contract that Louis can’t take a job as salesman with any other house till one year is up, and the boy can’t afford to stay loafing around for a whole year.”

Abe nodded, and as he turned to look up the contract in the safe the store door opened and Louis himself entered.

“Hallo, Louis,” Abe cried.  “Glad to see you, Louis.  Another good trip?”

Louis nodded, and they all passed into the show-room.

“Well, you’re going to make many more of them for us before you’re through, Louis,” Abe said.

Louis grunted, and Abe and Morris exchanged disquieting glances.

“You know, Louis,” Morris said in the dulcet accents of the sucking dove, “your contract is up next week, and Abe and me was talking about it the other day, Louis, and about the house, too, and we says we should do something about that house, Louis, and so we’ll make another contract for about, say, three years, and we’ll fix it up about the house when we all sign the contract, Louis.  We meant to take back the house all the time, Louis.  We was only kidding you along, Louis,” he continued.