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It was a smear plus. Tickled? Why, Old Hickory came so near smilin' I was afraid that armor-plate face of his was goin' to crack. But say, don't tell the National Real Estaters' League about that commission check he slipped me. I might lose my amateur standin'. Next time I'll pay attention. For Vee must have mentioned how this Cousin Myra of hers was comin'. Yes, I remember now.

"No?" Rashkin replied. "Well, the fact is, Mr. Potash, I ain't come to see you about Seattle. I come to see you about three lots up in Two Hundred and Sixty-fourth Street." The urbane smile faded at once from Abe's face and gave place to a dark scowl. "Oh!" he exclaimed, "a real estater. I ain't got no time to fool away with real estaters." "This ain't fooling away your time, Mr.

"It's already two o'clock, so I guess, Abe, you would be liable to get him in the back room of Wasserbauer's Café. Him and a feller by the name Feinson and that lowlife Rabiner plays there auction pinochle together." "But ain't he got no office, Mawruss?" Abe asked. "Sure, he's got an office," Morris replied. "He's got it desk-room with a couple of real estaters on Liberty Street, Abe.

"But there you was talking to that real estater pretty near an hour, Abe, and you couldn't even tell it me what he wants at all," Morris protested. "To tell you the truth, Mawruss," Abe replied, "I ain't interested in what real estaters says. Real estaters, insurance canvassers and book agents, Mawruss, is all the same to me. They go in by one ear and come out by the other."

"I give that house to a number of real estaters, already, and I'm considering a good offer from a feller what Ferdy Rothschild brings me. The feller makes me a fine offer, Mr.