“Did he say he would put it in writing?” Morris asked.

Abe glared at Morris for an instant.

“Do you think I am making jokes?” he rejoined.  “He don’t got to put it in writing, Mawruss.  It’s as plain as the nose on your face.  We pay twenty-five hundred dollars for a thousand shares at two and a half to-day, and next week it goes up to five and we sell it and make it twenty-five hundred dollars.  Ain’t it?”

“Who do we sell it to?” Morris asked.

Abe pondered for a moment, then his face brightened up.

“Why, to the stock exchange, certainly,” he replied.

“Must they buy it from us, Abe?” Morris inquired.

“Sure they must, Mawruss,” Abe said.  “Ain’t Sol Klinger always selling his stocks to them people?”

“Well, Sol Klinger got his customers, Abe, and we got ours,” Morris replied doubtfully.  “Maybe them people would buy it from Sol and wouldn’t buy it from us.”

For the rest of the afternoon Morris plied Abe with questions about the technicalities of the stock market until Abe took refuge in flight and went home at half-past five.  The next morning Morris resumed his quiz until Abe’s replies grew personal in character.

“What’s the use of trying to explain something to nobody what don’t understand nothing?” he exclaimed.

“Maybe I don’t understand it,” Morris admitted, “but also you don’t understand it, too, maybe.  Ain’t it?”

“I understand this much, Mawruss,” Abe cried—­“I understand, Mawruss, that if Sol Klinger tells me he guarantees it I make twenty-five hundred dollars, and this here Milton Fiedler, too, he also says it, and a young feller actually with my own eyes I see it buys this stock because he’s got information from inside people, why shouldn’t we buy it and make money on it?  Ain’t it?”

Morris was about to reply when the letter carrier entered with the morning mail.  Abe took the bundle of envelopes, and on the top of the pile was a missive from Gunst & Baumer.  Abe tore open the envelope and looked at the letter hurriedly.  “You see, Mawruss,” he cried, “already it goes up a sixteenth.”  He handed the letter to Morris.  It read as follows: 

Gentlemen:

For your information we beg to advise you that Interstate Copper
advanced a sixteenth at the close of the market yesterday.  Should
you desire us to execute a buying order in these securities, we
urge you to let us know before ten o’clock to-morrow morning, as
we believe that a sharp advance will follow the opening of the
market. 
Truly yours,
GUNST & BAUMER,
Milton Fiedler, Mgr.

“Well,” Abe said, “what do you think, Mawruss?”

“Think!” Morris cried.  “Why, I think that he ain’t said nothing to us about them gold and silver stocks of B. Sheitlis’, Abe, so I guess he ain’t sold ’em yet.  If he can’t sell a stock from gold and silver already, Abe, what show do we stand with a stock from copper?”