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Goldman scratched his head to aid his memory. "I remember it now," he said at last. "It's a feller by the name Sam Slotkin." When Abe and Morris recovered from the shock of Goldman's disclosure they vied with each other in the strength of their resolutions not to move into Sam Slotkin's loft.
"But I wouldn't pay one cent to that sucker, Slotkin, Mawruss," Abe added. "Sure not," Morris agreed. "Might you wouldn't have to pay him nothing, maybe," Goldman suggested. "What d'ye mean?" Abe cried. "Might if you would take it the loft he would call off the strike," said Goldman.
"I hope so," Abe said skeptically, and at once repaired to the office. It was the tail-end of a busy season and Abe and Morris found no time to renew the topic of their forthcoming removal until two days later when Sam Slotkin again interviewed Morris. The result was communicated to Abe by Morris after Slotkin's departure.
I seen it your shop where your operators work," he commenced, "and " "Why, you ain't never been inside our shop," Goldman cried. "I seen it from the outside from the street already and as varking delegate it is my duty to call on you a strike," Slotkin concluded. "What's the matter with the workroom?" Abe asked. "Well, the neighborhood ain't right," Slotkin explained.
"Why, then, that loft what I called to your attention, as broker, this morning would be exactly what you would need it!" Slotkin exclaimed, in the hearty tones of a conscientious man, glad that for once the performance of his official duty redounded to clean-handed personal profit. "Sure," Abe grunted.
Abe asked, staring after the departing figure. "That's Sam Slotkin," Morris replied. "He looks like a bright young feller." "I bet yer he looks bright," Abe commented. "He looks so bright in them vaudeville clothes that it almost gives me eye-strain. I suppose he says he can get us the lofts." "Sure," Morris answered; "he says he can fix us up all right."
"Then, as broker, I tell it you that the leases is ready down at Henry D. Feldman's office," Slotkin replied, "and as soon as they are signed the strike is off." A week later the Fashion Store's order was finished, packed and shipped; and on the same day that Goldman, the foreman, dismissed the hands he went down to Henry D. Feldman's office.
"Good afternoon, gents," he said. Morris and Abe greeted him with a scowl. "I suppose you come for an answer about that loft, huh?" Morris snorted. Slotkin stared at Abe indignantly. "Excuse me, Mr. Perlmutter," he said, "I ain't here as broker. I'll see you later about that already. I come here now as varking delegate." "Sure, I know," Abe replied.
"Well, Abe," Morris cried, "that's a fine piece of business. We not only got to take it the loft what Slotkin picks out for us, but we also got to give Slotkin our work also." Abe shrugged his shoulders in an indifferent manner. "You always got to run things your way, Mawruss," he said.
"Mawruss," Abe said at last, "where is that loft what Slotkin gives us?" "What do you want to know for?" "I'm going right up to have a look at it," Abe replied. "I'm sick and tired of this here strike business." Morris heaved a great sigh. "I believe you, Abe," he said. "The way I feel it now we will sell for junk every machine what we got."
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