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Updated: May 8, 2025
Morris asked. "I'm going home to pack my grip," Abe announced, "and I'll get that six o'clock train to Chicago, sure." "But, Abe," Morris protested, "I thought the doctor says if you went out on the road he wouldn't be responsible for you." "I know he did," Abe concluded as he passed out, "but who will be responsible for Marks Pasinsky, Mawruss?"
He turned and strode angrily away, while Abe went back to the show-room. "Well, Pasinsky," he said, "I decided I would take a chance and advance you the three hundred; but you got to do the business, Pasinsky, otherwise it is all off." Pasinsky nodded and tucked away the yellowbacks which Abe gave him. "All you've got to do, Mr.
He looked from Abe to Morris and beamed with satisfaction. They were in a condition of partial hypnotism, which became complete after Pasinsky had concluded a ten-minutes' discourse on cloak and suit affairs. He spoke with a fluency and emphasis that left Abe and Morris literally gasping like landed fish, although, to be sure, the manner of his discourse far outshone the matter.
For example, it appeared that he knew Rudolph Rosenwater, buyer for Feigenson & Schiffer, of San Francisco, to the extent of an anecdote containing a long, intimate dialogue wherein Rosenwater commenced all his speeches with: "Well, Markie." "And so I says to him," Pasinsky concluded, "'Rudie, you are all right, I says, 'but you can't con me."
"He's a big feller with a stovepipe hat and curly hair," Abe replied, "and he came in here yesterday afternoon with a short, dark feller what is stopping here. This here Pasinsky is stopping where I am, but he ain't showed up all night, and I guess he's stayed here with that short, dark feller." The clerk touched a bell. "Front," he said, "show this gentleman up to eighty-nine." "Eighty-nine?"
"Auction pinochle!" Abe interrupted, throwing up his hands. "Das fehlt nur noch!" "As I was saying, Mr. Potash," Prosnauer went on with a withering glance at Abe, "those samples are outside, and Pasinsky has asked me to ship them to Klinger & Klein, and " "Ship 'em!" Abe cried. "You shouldn't ship nothing. Them samples belongs to me." "How do I know that?" Prosnauer asked.
"I know it," Mozart said, "but Pasinsky says that he didn't care, because a good salesman like him could always find it an opening somewhere, and anyway he wasn't stuck on working for a piker concern like yours." Abe rose with his eyes ablaze. "That settles it," he said, jamming his hat on his head. "I'm going for a policeman. I'll teach that sucker to steal my orders!"
"I got to see a lawyer and make this here feller Pasinsky arrested." "Don't do nothing rash, Abe," Kuhner advised. "I won't do nothing rash," Abe promised. "I'll kill him, that's what I'll do." He took the stairs three at a jump and fairly ran to the dry-goods store of the Arcade Mercantile Company. "Mr.
"No, I wouldn't starve," Abe admitted, "but I also couldn't go out on the road, neither. The doctor wouldn't let me, so we got to hire a feller to take care of our Western trade. I guess he's a pretty good salesman, too. His name is Marks Pasinsky. Do you know him?" "Sure I know him," Leon Sammet replied.
Fifteen minutes later Abe descended from his room with the marks of travel almost effaced, and again inquired for Marks Pasinsky. "He ain't been back since, Mr. Potash," said the clerk. "He didn't go out with nobody. No?" Abe asked. "I think he went out with a short, dark gentleman," the clerk answered. Abe pondered for a moment.
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