"And how about the packages from Feinholz?" Morris continued. But before Miss Cohen could reply Abe burst into the show-room with a broad grin on his face.

"That's a good joke on Feinholz, Mawruss," he said. "All the fire was in the elevator shaft and them garments what he returned it us is nothing but ashes."

"But, Abe," Morris began, when the telephone bell trilled impatiently.

Abe took up the receiver.

"Hallo!" he said. "Yes, this is Potash. Oh, hallo, Feinholz!"

"Say, Potash," Feinholz said at the other end of the wire, "we got the store full of people here. Couldn't you send up them capes right away?"

Abe put his hand over the mouthpiece of the 'phone.

"It's Feinholz," he said to Morris. "He wants them capes right away.

What shall I tell him?"

"Tell him nothing," Morris cried. "The first thing you know you will say something to that feller, and he sues us yet for damages because we didn't deliver the goods."

Abe hesitated for a minute.

"You talk to him," he said at length.

Morris seized the receiver from his partner.

"Hallo, Feinholz," he yelled. "We don't want nothing to say to you at all. We are through with you. That's all. Good-by."

He hung up the receiver and turned to Abe.

"When I deal with a crook like Feinholz," he said, "I'm afraid for my life."

Ten minutes later he went out to lunch and when he returned he brandished the early edition of an evening paper.

"What you think it says here, Abe?" he cried. "It says the fire downstairs was caused by an operator throwing a cigarettel in the clipping bin. Ain't that a quincidence, Abe?"

"I bet yer that's a quincidence," Abe replied. "A couple more of them quincidences, Mawruss, and we got to pay double for our insurance. I only wish we would be finished collecting on our policies for this here quincidence, Mawruss."

Morris shrugged his shoulders and was about to make a rea.s.suring answer when the door opened and two men entered.

One of them was Samuel Feder, vice-president of the Koscius...o...b..nk, and the other was Louis Feinholz, proprietor of the Longchamps Store.

"Well, Abe," Feder cried, "what's this I hear about the fire?"

"Come into the office, Mr. Feder," Abe cried, while Morris greeted Feinholz. "Morris will be through soon."

"Say, Mawruss," Feinholz said. "What's the matter with you boys? Here I got to come downtown about them capes, and my whole store's full of people. Why didn't you ship them capes back to me like I told you?"

"Look a-here, Feinholz," Morris exclaimed in tones sufficiently loud for Feder to overhear, "what d'ye take us for, anyhow? Greenhorns? Do you think you can write us a dirty letter like that and then come down and get them capes just for the asking?"

"Ain't you getting touchy all of a sudden, Mawruss?" Feinholz cried excitedly. "You had no business to deliver them goods in such rotten weather. You know as well as I do that I couldn't use them goods till fine weather sets in, and now I want 'em, and I want 'em bad."

"Is that so?" Morris replied. "Why, I thought them garments was no good, Feinholz. I thought them capes wasn't up to sample."

"What are you talking about?" Feinholz shouted. "Them goods was all right and the sample's all right, too. All I want now is you should ship 'em right away. I can sell the lot this afternoon if you only get 'em up to my store in time."

Morris waved his hand deprecatingly.

"S'enough, Feinholz," he said; "you got as much show of getting them goods as though you never ordered 'em."

"Why not?" Feinholz cried.

"Because them goods got burned up on our freight elevator this morning,"

Morris replied.

"What!" Feinholz gasped.

"That's what I said," Morris concluded; "and if you excuse me I got some business to attend to."

Feinholz turned and almost staggered from the store, while Morris joined his partner and Sam Feder in the firm's office. Feder had overheard the entire conversation and greeted Morris with a smile.

"Well, Mawruss," he said, "it serves that sucker right. A feller what confesses right up and down that the goods was all right and then he fires them back at you just because the weather was rotten ought to be sued yet."

"What do we care?" Abe replied. "We got 'em insured, and so long as we get our money out of 'em we would rather not be bothered with him."

"Did you have any other damages, boys?" Feder asked, with a solicitude engendered of a ten-thousand-dollar accommodation to Potash & Perlmutter's debit on the books of the Koscius...o...b..nk.

"Otherwise, everything is O. K.," Morris replied cheerfully. Together they conducted Feder on a tour of their premises and, after he was quite rea.s.sured, they presented him with a good cigar and ushered him into the elevator.

"I guess you put your foot in it with Feinholz, Mawruss," Abe said after Feder had departed. "How can we go to that kid nephew of his now and ask him to adjust the loss, Mawruss?"

Morris arched his eyebrows and stared at his partner.

"What's the matter with you, anyway, Abe?" he asked. "Ain't J. Blaustein good enough for you? Ain't J. Blaustein always done it our insurance business up to now all O. K., Abe? And now that we got it our very first fire, why should you want to throw Blaustein down?"

Abe put on his hat thoroughly abashed.

"I thought we got to get Rudy Feinholz to adjust it the loss," he said.

"Otherwise, I wouldn't of suggested it. But, anyway, I will go right down to Blaustein and see what he says."

Morris jumped to his feet.

"Wait," he said; "I'll go with you."

Half an hour afterward Abe and Morris were seated in J. Blaustein's office on Pine Street, recounting the details of the fire.

"How many garments was there?" Blaustein asked.

"Forty-eight, and we figured it up the loss at twelve-fifty apiece,"

Morris explained. "That's what we billed 'em to Feinholz for."

Blaustein frowned.