"You're the inside man,
Mawruss."
"To my sorrow, Abe," said Morris, "and if you was the inside man you
would know it that if I told 'em they was working on a rush order they'd
strike for more money already."
"And yet, Mawruss, you ain't in favor of giving out our work by
contractors," Abe cried as he walked away.
The next morning Sam Slotkin was waiting in the show-room before Abe or
Morris arrived. When they entered he advanced to meet them with a
confident smile.
"I got it the very thing what you want, Mr. Perlmutter," he said. "A
fine loft on Nineteenth Street."
"A loft!" Abe exclaimed.
"A fine loft," Slotkin corrected.
"How big a loft?" Morris asked.
"Well, it is maybe twicet as big as this here," Slotkin replied. "You
could get into it all your machines and have a cutting-room and
show-room and office besides."
"That sounds pretty good, Abe," Morris commented. "Don't you think
so, Abe?"
Abe pulled off his coat with such force that he ripped the
sleeve-lining.
"What are you doing," he demanded, "making jokes with me?"
"And it's only twenty dollars more a month as you're paying here,"
Slotkin concluded.
"Twenty dollars a month won't make us or break us, Abe," Morris said.
"It won't, hey?" Abe roared. "Well, that don't make no difference,
Mawruss. You said you wanted it two lofts, and we got to have it two
lofts. How do you think we're going to sell goods and keep our books,
Mawruss, if we have all them machines kicking up a racket on the
same floor?"
"Well, Abe, might we could send our work out by contractors, maybe,"
Morris answered with all the vivacity of a man suggesting a new and
brilliant idea.
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