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Me and Mawruss would be only too glad, Mr. Sheitlis, to try and sell it for you, and the more we get it for the stock the gladder we would be for your sake. I wouldn't take a penny for selling it if you should make a million out of it." "A million I won't make it," Mr. Sheitlis replied, dismissing the subject. "I'll be satisfied if I get ten dollars for it."
Despite his expert knowledge, however, he was slightly stumped, as the vernacular has it, when Abe Potash produced B. Sheitlis' stock, for in all his bucketshop and curb experience he had never even heard of the Texas-Nevada Gold and Silver Mining Corporation. "This is one of those smaller mines, Mr. Potash," he explained, "which sometimes get to be phenomenal profit-makers.
He walked toward the front door of his store with Abe. "What is the indications for spring business in the wholesale trade, Mr. Potash," he asked blandly. Abe shook his head. "It should be good, maybe," he replied; "only, you can't tell nothing about it. Silks is the trouble." "Silks?" Mr. Sheitlis rejoined. "Why, silks makes goods sell high, Mr. Potash. Ain't it?
You belong in New York where all them stock brokers is, so I want you should be so kind and take this here stock to one of them stock brokers and see what I can get for it. Maybe I could get a profit for it, and then, of course, I should pay you something for your trouble." "Pay me something!" Abe exclaimed in accents of relief. "Why, Mr. Sheitlis, what an idea!
Abe smiled with such forced amiability that his mustache was completely engulfed between his nose and his lower lip. "I ain't buying no cloaks, Mr. Sheitlis," he said. "I'm selling 'em." "Not a stock from cloaks, Mr. Potash," Mr. Sheitlis explained; "but a stock from gold and silver." "I ain't in the jewelry business, neither," Abe said. "That ain't the stock what I mean," Mr. Sheitlis cried.
Abe was about to retort when a wave of recollection came over him, and he clutched wildly at his breast pocket. "Ho-ly smokes!" he cried. "I forgot all about it." "Forgot all about what?" Morris asked. "B. Sheitlis, of the Suffolk Credit Outfitting Company," Abe replied. "He give me a stock in Pittsburg last week, and I forgot all about it." "A stock!" Morris exclaimed. "What for a stock?"
So we got to cut our profits, and that's the way it goes in the cloak and suit business. You don't know where you are at no more than when you got stocks from stock exchanges." "Well, Mr. Potash," Sheitlis replied encouragingly, "next season is next season, but now is this season, and from the prices what you quoted it me, Mr. Potash, you ain't going to the poorhouse just yet a while."
Certainly, I admit it you got to pay more for silk piece goods as for cotton piece goods, but you take the same per cent. profit on the price of the silk as on the price of the cotton, and so you make more in the end. Ain't it?" "If silk piece goods is low or middling, Mr. Sheitlis," Abe replied sadly, "there is a good deal in what you say. But silk is high this year, Mr.
Truly yours, GUNST & BAUMER, Milton Fiedler, Mgr. "Well," Abe said, "what do you think, Mawruss?" "Think!" Morris cried. "Why, I think that he ain't said nothing to us about them gold and silver stocks of B. Sheitlis', Abe, so I guess he ain't sold 'em yet. If he can't sell a stock from gold and silver already, Abe, what show do we stand with a stock from copper?"
I was carried away by B. Sheitlis' making his money so easy." Abe jumped to his feet. "Ho-ly smokes!" he cried and dashed out of the show-room to the telephone in the rear of the store. He returned a moment later with his cigar at a rakish angle to his jutting lower lip. "It's all right, Mawruss," he said.
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