Part 47 (1/2)

Before Morris could reply, the letter-carrier entered with the morning mail. While Abe continued to run his thumb down the columns of the commercial agency book, Morris began to open the envelopes. Both their heads were bent over their tasks, when an exclamation arose simultaneously from each.

”Now, what d'ye think of that?” said Abe.

”Did y' ever see anything like it?” Morris cried.

”What is it?” Abe asked.

For answer, Morris thrust a letter into his partner's hand. It was headed, ”The Advance Credit Clothing Company--Marcus Bramson, Proprietor,” and read as follows:

MESSRS. POTASH & PERLMUTTER.

GENTS:

Your s.h.i.+pment of the 5th is to hand, and in reply would say that we are returning it _via_ Blue Line on account Miss Tillie Bramson's engagement is broken. We understand that lowlife H. Maimin got into you for six hundred and fifty dollars. Believe me, he done us for more than that. Our Mr. Bramson will be in New York shortly, and will call to look at your line. Hoping we will be able to do business with you,

Yours truly, THE ADVANCE CREDIT CLOTHING COMPANY, Per T. B.

Abe Potash laid down the letter with a sigh, while his thumb still rested caressingly on the open page of the mercantile agency book.

”So he's going to send back the present!” he said. ”That man Marcus Bramson, proprietor, has a big heart, Mawruss. He's a man with fine feelings and a fine disposition, Mawruss. He's got a fine rating too, Mawruss--seventy-five to a hundred thousand, first credit!” He closed the book almost lovingly. ”D'ye think they would give the money back for that present, Mawruss?”

”I don't know,” said Morris. ”Minnie bought it, and she told me it was a big bargain. It was a sale, she said, but I guess they'll take it back.”

”What did it look like?” Abe said.

”I didn't see it,” Morris replied. ”They sent it direct from the store, but I took Minnie's word for it. She said it was fine value.”

”And Minnie,” Abe concluded, ”is a fine, up-to-date woman.”

Two days later, Abe Potash spotted the name of Marcus Bramson in the ”Arrival of Buyers” column of a morning newspaper.

”Mawruss,” he cried, ”he's come!”

”Who's come?” Morris asked.

”Marcus Bramson,” Abe replied, reaching for his hat. ”I'm going over to the Bingler House now to meet him. You wait here till I come back. I bet you we sell him a big bill of goods!”

As Abe went out of the store by the front door, an expressman, bearing a square wooden box, entered the rear alley. He brought the package straight to Miss Cohen, who signed a receipt, and summoned Mr.

Perlmutter. Morris proceeded to pry off the cover.

”This is something what Mrs. Perlmutter bought for Hyman Maimin's wedding present,” he explained. ”I ain't never seen it yet.”

He pulled out a number of wads of tissue paper. When he finally reached a piece of silverware, he turned the box upside down and shook out the remainder of its contents upon a sample table.

”Oh, Mr. Perlmutter,” Mist Cohen exclaimed, clasping her hands, ”what a beautiful bonbon dis.h.!.+ What a lovely wedding present!”

Morris looked at the bonbon dish, and beads of perspiration started on his forehead.