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I already wasted a whole morning on him and, just to show you I ain't such a crook as you think I am, I would go right down there now; and if I got to do it I would drag that young loafer out of there by the hair of his head." Twenty minutes later Abe burst into Katzberg & Schapp's business premises and asked in loud tones for Sidney Koblin.
It was some weeks before Abe could bring himself to recount to Morris the full details of Sidney Koblin's regeneration, but Morris had learned the facts long before there appeared in the advertising section of the Clothing and Haberdashery Magazine the following full-page advertisement: KATZBERG, SCHAPP & KOBLIN Announce the OPENING OF THEIR NEW OFFICE AND SHOWROOM In the Chicksaw Building, West 4th Street, New York MAKERS OF TROUSERS FOR FINICKY FOLKS
"The only use some people got for a partner, Shapolnik," he commented, "is they could always blame him for everything they do; but even if you did come in my place just to show me what an elegant suit of clothes and a fine clean shave you got it, Shapolnik, I am bringing you a salesman anyhow." Katzberg at this juncture again laid down his pressing iron and came forward.
"Certainly you are," Abe added, rising from his chair; "and now, Katzberg, the whole thing is settled." Katzberg shrugged and extended one palm outward in a gesture of despair. "Seemingly we are not our own bosses here," he said.
Why, you don't know my partner at all, Mister er excuse me, do you got a card?" The stranger drew a card from his waistcoat pocket and with a proud gesture handed it to Abe. It read as follows: Z. KATZBERG I. SCHAPP KATZBERG & SCHAPP FINE PANTS 530 WEST WASHINGTON PLACE NEW YORK "I am taking your advice, Mr. Potash," he said. "I am taking your advice all round. I cut 'em off." "You cut what off?"
"I believe you, Sidney," he said, "and we will right away take the car down to West Washington Place." Katzberg & Schapp occupied the top floor of an old private house; but what their place of business lacked in size it made up in activity. Pressing irons were sizzling and banging and sewing machines were burring loudly as Abe and Sidney climbed the stairs.
"Say, lookyhere, what is the use talking?" he cried. "We don't need a salesman; and that's all there is to it." "'S enough, Katzberg," Abe shouted. "You got a whole lot too much to say for yourself for a new beginner. I ain't saying you need a salesman, Katzberg; I am only saying that you are going to hire one, Katzberg. And after you hire one you will quick need him."
We're going to have a showroom so soon as we are settled a safe too. A telephone we already got it. This is Mr. Potash, Katzberg, and the other gentleman I don't know at all." "Mr. Koblin," Abe explained; "he is coming to work by you as a salesman." "A salesman!" Katzberg exclaimed. "Why, we don't want no " Shapolnik turned on him with a glare.
In response, a stout figure, clad only in an undershirt, trousers and a pair of carpet slippers, laid down a pressing iron and shuffled toward the visitors. "My partner, Mister Katzberg," Shapolnik announced. "He also looks a slob, Mr. Potash; but when we are getting partitions in, and our office fixed up, no one would see him at all. He is the inside man; and me, I am in the office and showroom.
When they entered, Shapolnik, the butterfly of fashion, had once more assumed the chrysalis of his working clothes. "How do you do, Mister Potash?" he cried, all in one breath. "Excuse me; I am looking like a slob. We are busy like dawgs here. Katzberg!" he yelled; "Kimmen Sie hieran."
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