Abe scratched his head.  These rhetorical questions hardly fitted the situation, especially the one about throwing away money.

“Look-y here, Mawruss,” he said, “if you think you scare me by this theayter acting you’re mistaken.  Just calm yourself, Mawruss, and tell me what you heard it.  I ain’t heard nothing.”

For answer Morris handed him the evening paper.

“Sensational Failure in Wall Street,” was the red-letter legend on the front page.  With bulging eyes Abe took in the import of the leaded type which disclosed the news that Gunst & Baumer, promoters of Interstate Copper, having boosted its price to five, were overwhelmed by a flood of profit-taking.  To support their stock Gunst & Baumer were obliged to buy in all the Interstate offered at five, and when at length their resources gave out they announced their suspension.  Interstate immediately collapsed and sold down in less than a quarter of an hour from five bid, five and a thirty-second asked, to a quarter bid, three-eighths asked.

Abe handed back the paper to Morris and lit a cigar.

“For a man what has just played his partner for a sucker, Abe,” Morris said, “you take it nice and quiet.”

Abe puffed slowly before replying.

“After all, Mawruss,” he said, “I was right.”

“You was right?” Morris exclaimed.  “What d’ye mean?”

“I mean, Mawruss,” Abe went on, “I figured it out right.  I says to myself when I got that check for twenty-five hundred dollars:  If I buy this here stock from stock exchanges and we make money Mawruss will go pretty near crazy.  He’ll want to buy it the whole stock exchange full from stocks, and in the end it will bust us.  On the other hand, Mawruss, I figured it out that if we bought this here stock and lose money on it, then Mawruss’ll go crazy also, and want to murder me or something.”

He paused and puffed again at his cigar.

“So, Mawruss,” he concluded, “I went down to Gunst & Baumer’s building, Mawruss; but instead of going to Gunst & Baumer, Mawruss, I went one flight lower down to Hill, Arkwright & Thompson’s, Mawruss, and I didn’t buy it Interstate Copper, Mawruss, but I bought it instead silk foulards, Mawruss—­seventy-five hundred dollars’ worth for twenty-five hundred dollars, and it’s laying right now up in the cutting-room.”

He leaned back in his chair and triumphantly surveyed his partner, who had collapsed into a crushed and perspiring heap.

“So, Mawruss,” he said, “I am a gambler.  Hey?  I shed your blood?  What?  I ruin you with my fool advice?  Ain’t it?”

Morris raised a protesting hand.

“Abe,” he murmured huskily, “I done you an injury.  It’s me what’s the fool.  I was carried away by B. Sheitlis’ making his money so easy.”

Abe jumped to his feet.

“Ho-ly smokes!” he cried and dashed out of the show-room to the telephone in the rear of the store.  He returned a moment later with his cigar at a rakish angle to his jutting lower lip.