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"I am just taking chances might you would know somebody, maybe," Shapolnik murmured as he rose to his feet. He seemed much relieved at Abe's refusal. "And I hope you don't think I am doing something out of the way. You know, Mr. Potash, me and my partner we think a whole lot of your judgment, and if you would give us an advice we are willing we should follow it."
I got enough to attend to here in the store, Mawruss, without I should bother myself." "I bet yer!" Morris agreed fervently. "That reminds me, Abe, Shapolnik is leaving us on Saturday." "Well, Mawruss, I couldn't exactly break my heart about that, y'understand?" Abe replied, "Skirt-cutters you could always get plenty of 'em. What's the matter he ain't satisfied?"
"Nowadays, if a feller wants to make a success he must got to wear good clothes and look like a mensch, y'understand? It never harms in business, Shapolnik, that a feller should throw sometimes, oncet in a while, a little bluff." Between the ages of sixteen and twenty Sidney Koblin had so often tested the maxim, "Boys will be boys," that Max Koblin's patience at length became exhausted.
"Katzberg," he said, "them samples you are working on we got to show the Magnet Store this afternoon yet." Katzberg shrugged his shoulders and returned to his pressing, while Shapolnik drew forward two rickety chairs and a packing-box. "Have a seat, Mr. Potash; and Mr. Cohen, too," he said. "Koblin," Abe corrected. "Koblin," Shapolnik repeated. "Excuse me."
Abe asked. "The whiskers, Mr. Potash. Also I am making short the name. In Russland Shapolnik is all right, Mr. Potash; but if a feller wants to make a success in business he should be a little up to date, ain't it?" The cordial smile faded from Abe's face as he recognized his visitor. "There's such a thing as being too much up to date, Shapolnik," he said.
"Why not?" Morris repeated. "What would Feder think of us if we are bringing a yokel like Shapolnik into his office? The feller ain't been two years in the country yet." "Don't knock a feller like Shapolnik just because he ain't putting on no front nor throwing no bluffs, Mawruss," Abe retorted.
Before the astonished Shapolnik could reply, Max Koblin, who had followed Abe on the next car, arrived all breathless and panted a similar demand. "He ain't in now," Shapolnik replied; "he is just going to his lunch." "What d'ye mean by talking to me on the 'phone the way you did this morning?" Max shouted. "You ain't got no business to keep my boy from me."
You told me yesterday you wanted a salesman and I am bringing him to you." Shapolnik blushed. "Sure, I know I told it you, Mr. Potash," he said, "but my partner thinks otherwise." Abe nodded.
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.
"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.
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