Abe rose with the napkin tucked in his neck, and carrying the dish of dill pickles with him, he sat down at Morris’ table, to which Louis brought the roast beef a moment later.

“I seen you was in the cloak and suit business as soon as I looked at you,” Abe said.  “I guess I’ll eat here till your friends come.”

“Go ahead,” Morris replied.  “It’s already quarter past one, and if them fellers don’t come soon, I’m going to eat, too.”

“What’s the use waiting?” Abe said.  “Eat anyhow.  This roast beef is fine.  Try some of it on me.”

“Why should I stick you for my lunch?” Morris rejoined.  “I see them suckers ain’t going to show up at all, so I guess I’ll take a sandwich and a cup of coffee.”

He motioned to Louis.

“Right away!” Louis cried.  “Yes, sir, we got some nice Koenigsberger Klops to-day mit Kartoffel Kloes.”

“What d’ye take this gentleman for, anyway, Louis?” Abe asked.  “A garbage can?  Give him a nice slice of roast beef well done and a baked potato.  Also bring two cups of coffee and give it the checks to me.”

By a quarter to two Abe and Morris had passed from business matters to family affairs, and after they had exchanged cigars and the conversation had reached a stage where Morris had just accepted an invitation to dine at Abe’s house, Noblestone and Zudrowsky entered, with Harry Federmann bringing up in the rear.  Harry was evidently in disfavor, and his weak, blond face wore the crestfallen look of a whipped child, for he had been so occupied with his billing and cooing up town, that he had forgotten his business engagement.

“Hallo, Mr. Perlmutter,” Noblestone cried, and then he caught sight of Morris’ companion and the remains of their generous meal.  “I thought you was going to take lunch with us.”

“Do I got to starve, Mr. Who’s-this—­I lost your card—­just because I was fool enough to take up your proposition yesterday?  I should of known better in the first place.”

“But this here young feller, Mr. Federmann, got detained uptown,” Zudrowsky explained.  “His wife got took suddenly sick.”

“Why, she may have to have an operation,” Noblestone said in a sudden burst of imaginative enthusiasm.

“You should tell your troubles to a doctor,” Abe said, rising from the table.  “And besides, Noblestone, Mr. Perlmutter don’t want no partner just now.”

“But,” Perlmutter began, “but, Mr. Potash——­”

“That is to say,” Abe interrupted, “he don’t want a partner with no business experience.  Me, I got business experience, as you know, Mr. Noblestone, and so we fixed it up we would go as partners together, provided after we look each other up everything is all right.”

He looked inquiringly at Perlmutter, who nodded in reply.

“And if everything is all right,” Perlmutter said, “we will start up next week.”

“Under the firm name,” Abe added, “of Potash & Perlmutter.”