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There was an uncomfortable pause in which the two men evinced a slight disposition to glare at each other. "Mr. Schnitt's eyes are bad," suggested Johnny hopefully. "My eyes are like a young man's!" asserted Schnitt, his pride coming uppermost. "He needs a month to rest them," insisted the buffer, becoming a trifle panic-stricken; and he tapped the sole of Ersten's shoe with his foot.
"You tell him you want a month to rest up your eyes." "I don't need it!" protested Heinrich. "You only say that so you won't have to work in that shop, but, never mind, I'll fix it so he offers it," patiently explained Johnny, and proceeded to make it perfectly plain. "You say that you have come back to work. Don't say another word." "I have come back to work," repeated Schnitt.
"But must I do his coat cutting for a month yet?" protested the abused Ersten. "Nobody can do it in New York for my customers but Heinrich Schnitt and me." "It may not be a month. Just now he might take some of your more important work home, where the light is better. That would be working for you in this place." "Well, maybe," admitted Ersten puffing out his cheeks in frowning consideration.
What is to be said?" Johnny could feel the nervous tension of the room lighten as Ersten walked out with him. "It will be like this," Johnny explained: "Schnitt will come in with me and say: 'I have come back to work." "In this place?" demanded Ersten. "Ask him that. He will say: 'Yes." "Will he?" cried Ersten, unable to believe his ears. "That's what he will say but he won't do it."
In front of the PANORAMA on the ROSSPLATZ, he ran into the arms of Furst, and the latter, when he heard where Maurice was going, had nothing better to do than to accompany him, and drink a SCHNITT. Furst, who was in capital spirits at the prospect of the evening, laughed heartily, told witty anecdotes, and slapped his fat thigh, the type of rubicund good-humour; and as he was not of an observant turn of mind, he did not notice his companion's abstraction.
Gamble likes some of that wine Carrie's husband made the year he died." "Ja voll," assented Mamma Schnitt heartily, and toddled away to get it. "I'll fix it for you," offered Johnny. "You go to Ersten and say you will come back; then Ersten will get a new place before you start to work." Heinrich straightened up with alacrity this time, his face fairly shining with pleasure.
"My eyes are like a young man's yet!" he stoutly maintained. "You don't read much any more," charged Mama Schnitt. "My glasses don't fit," he retorted to that. "You changed them last winter," she insisted. "Now, papa, don't be foolish! You know your eyes got bad in Louis Ersten's dark workroom. You never tell lies. Say it!" Heinrich struggled for a moment between his pride and his honesty.
"Heinrich Schnitt is fixing your coat!" he announced. "Danke!" she cried. "Did you get the lease?" "Yes, and sold it to Lofty," he enthusiastically informed her. "The schedule is paid up until four o'clock to-morrow afternoon." "Oh!" she gasped. "Wait a minute." He held the telephone while she consulted the score board and did some figuring. "That makes five hundred thousand of your million!
Ersten took his apron and the tape and threw them on a table with a slam. "I invite you to have a glass of Rheinthranen," he offered. "Thanks," returned Johnny carelessly, not quite appreciating the priceless honor. "I'll have Mr. Schnitt here in an hour, but you must be careful what you say to him. He is stubborn." "Sure, I know it," impetuously agreed Ersten. "He is an old assel.
"Oh, well, if you say so," returned Ersten with poorly assumed indifference. "It's as fine as a frog's feather!" Johnny assured Heinrich Schnitt half an hour later. "Will he move?" asked Heinrich. "Yes, but you mustn't say anything about it" "Well, I like to know it," returned Heinrich with proper caution. "I have his promise," asserted Johnny. "Then he moves," declared Heinrich, fully satisfied.
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