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"So what's the use talking about it?" "Well, I was going to say," Abe continued, "if it was something what you might call within reason, Moe, I might advance it if " "If what?" Moe inquired. "If you would tell me the insides of just how you got it that order from Prosnauer." Mozart gave a deprecatory wave of his right hand.
Simon Kuhner stood full six feet tall and was a decided blond, while Chester Prosnauer, whom he knew by sight only, was as large as Marks Pasinsky himself. "Who could that be, I wonder?" Abe murmured. "It was a gentleman staying over at the Altringham," the clerk said. "Then it couldn't be them," Abe concluded. "If Pasinsky comes back you should please tell him to wait.
"With people like Marks Pasinsky," Abe retorted as he paused at the door, "I don't got to make no threats. I know who I am dealing with, Mr. Prosnauer, and so, instead I should make threats I go right away and see a lawyer, and he will deliver the goods. That's all I got to say." "Hold on there, Mr. Potash," Prosnauer cried. "It ain't necessary for you to see a lawyer.
He could fall down a sewer manhole and come up in a dress suit and a clean shave already. He cleans me out last night two hundred dollars and the commission on that Prosnauer order." "But you didn't get that order in the first place, Moe," Abe said. "Marks Pasinsky got the order."
Prove to me that you own the samples and you can have 'em." Abe hesitated. "Well," he said, "if you would hold it them samples till to-morrow noon, Mr. Prosnauer, I'll give you all the proofs you want." "Very well," Prosnauer said, "I'll hold them. When will you be back?" "Before twelve to-morrow," Abe replied. "Believe me, Mr. Prosnauer, I ain't so stuck on paying lawyers.
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