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Updated: June 10, 2025
Potash," Max said, stroking a small gray mustache with a five-carat diamond ring. "What can I do for you?" "I got some goods belonging to Mr. Potash what a fellow called Lowenstein in Galveston, Texas, shipped me," said Hymie, "and Mr. Potash wants to get 'em back." "Replevin, hey?" Max said. "That's a little out of my line, but I guess I can fix you up." He rang for a stenographer.
"Either you give it us the thousand, Hymie," was Morris' ultimatum, "or either we keep the diamonds, and that's all there is to it." "Now, Mawruss," Hymie protested, "you ain't going to shut down on me like that! Make it two weeks more and I'll give you a hundred dollars bonus and interest at six per cent." Abe shook his head. "No, Hymie," he said firmly, "we ain't no loan sharks.
Only this morning I hear it that Hymie Salzman sails for Paris on Saturday." "Well, I couldn't stop him, Abe," Morris commented. "Sure, I know, Mawruss," Abe went on; "but things is very quiet here in the store, Mawruss, and for a month yet we wouldn't do hardly no business. I could get along here all right until, say, July 15th anyhow." For two minutes Morris looked hard at his partner.
"That settles it," Hymie cried, jumping to his feet and jamming his hat down with both hands. "Where you going, Hymie?" Abe called after him. "For a policeman," Hymie said. "I want them diamonds and I'm going to have 'em, too." Morris ran to the store door and grabbed Hymie by the coattails. "Wait a minute," he yelled. "Hymie, I'm surprised at you that you should act that way."
"So I do," said Hymie; "but he heard it something about this here Ready Pay Store and how I'm in it for fifteen hundred, and also this Cohen & Schondorf sticks me also, and he's getting anxious. So, either he wants me I should give him over a couple of accounts, or either I should take up some of my paper. Well, you know Feder, Abe.
"I took a chance, lady," he said; "like you are doing about the money which I give you being good." "Have no scruples on that score," the young lady replied. "I had it examined at the clerk's office just now." When M. Adolphe Kaufmann-Levi bade farewell to Moe, Abe, Leon, and Hymie Salzman, at the Gare St.
He lifted his Swiss-cheese sandwich in his left hand, holding out the third finger the better to display a five-carat stone, while Abe devoted himself to his veal. "Of course, Abe," Hymie continued, "on the first of the month that's only two weeks already things will be running easy for me."
"Why, where does Hymie Salzman, designer for Sammet Brothers, and Charles Eisenblum, designer for Klinger & Klein, get their idees, Mawruss?" This was purely a rhetorical question, but as Abe paused to heighten the effect of the peroration, Morris undertook to supply an answer. "Them suckers don't get their idees, Abe," he said; "they steal 'em.
So far what I hear it, Mawruss, he never stuck nobody for a cent." "Oh, Hymie ain't no crook, Abe," Morris admitted, "but I ain't got no use for a feller wearing diamonds. Diamonds looks good on women, Abe, and maybe also on a hotel-clerk or a feller what runs a restaurant, Abe, but a business man ain't got no right wearing diamonds."
Even Hymie Salzman went under, and Leon Sammet walked the swaying decks alone. Twice a day he poked his head into the stateroom occupied by Moe Griesman and Abe Potash, for Abe had thrown economy to the winds and had gone halves with Moe in the largest outside room on board. "Boys," Leon would ask, "ain't you going to get up? The air is fine on deck."
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