“Maybe there is, Mawruss,” Abe replied, “but I don’t know any of them.”

“No?” Morris said.  “Well, Sol Klinger, of Klinger & Klein, could tell you, I guess.  I seen him in the subway this morning, and he was pretty near having a fit over the financial page of the Sun.  I asked him if he seen a failure there, and he says no, but Steel has went up to seventy, maybe it was eighty.  So I says to him he should let Andrew Carnegie worry about that, and he says if he would of bought it at forty he would have been in thirty thousand dollars already.”

“Who?” Abe asked.  “Andrew Carnegie?”

“No,” Morris said; “Sol Klinger.  So I says to him I could get all the excitement I wanted out of auction pinochle and he says——­”

“S’enough, Mawruss,” Abe broke in.  “I heard enough already.  I’ll ring him up and ask him the name of the broker what does his business.”

He went to the telephone in the back of the store and returned a moment later and put on his hat and coat.

“I rung up Sol, Mawruss,” he said, “and Sol tells me that a good broker is Gunst & Baumer.  They got a branch office over Hill, Arkwright & Thompson, the auctioneers, Mawruss.  He says a young feller by the name Milton Fiedler is manager, and if he can’t sell that stock, Mawruss, Sol says nobody can.  So I guess I’ll go right over and see him while I got it in my mind.”

Milton Fiedler had served an arduous apprenticeship before he attained the position of branch manager for Gunst & Baumer in the dry-goods district.  During the thirty odd years of his life he had been in turn stockboy, clothing salesman, bookmaker’s clerk, faro dealer, poolroom cashier and, finally, bucketshop proprietor.  When the police closed him up he sought employment with Gunst & Baumer, whose exchange affiliations precluded any suspicion of bucketing, but who, nevertheless, did a thriving business in curb securities of the cat-and-dog variety, and it was in this particular branch of the science of investment and speculation that Milton excelled.  Despite his expert knowledge, however, he was slightly stumped, as the vernacular has it, when Abe Potash produced B. Sheitlis’ stock, for in all his bucketshop and curb experience he had never even heard of the Texas-Nevada Gold and Silver Mining Corporation.

“This is one of those smaller mines, Mr. Potash,” he explained, “which sometimes get to be phenomenal profit-makers.  Of course, I can’t tell you offhand what the value of the stock is, but I’ll make inquiries at once.  The inside market at present is very strong, as you know.”

Abe nodded, as he thought was expected of him, although “inside” and “outside” markets were all one to him.

“And curb securities naturally feel the influence of the bullish sentiment,” Fiedler continued.  “It isn’t the business of a broker to try to influence a customer’s choice, but I’d like you to step outside”—­they were in the manager’s private office—­“and look at the quotation board for a moment.  Interstate Copper is remarkably active this morning.”