"I don't mean nothing, Mawruss--nothing at all," Abe said, with ironical emphasis. He handed the paper to Morris. "Here, look for yourself!" He pointed with a trembling forefinger at the "business-troubles" column, and Morris's eyes seemed to bulge out of his head as he scanned the printed page: A petition in bankruptcy was filed late yesterday afternoon against Hyman Maimin, 83 West Tonawanda Street, Syracuse. It is claimed that he transferred assets to the amount of eight thousand dollars last week. Mr. Maimin says that he has been doing business at a heavy loss of late, but that he hopes to be able to resume. A settlement of thirty cents is proposed. Morris sat down in a revolving-chair too crushed for comment, and drummed with a lead pencil on the desk. "I wonder if he done up his intended father-in-law, too?" he said at length. "No fear of that, Mawruss," Abe replied. "He ain't no sucker like us, Mawruss. I bet you his father-in-law--what's his name----" "The Advance Credit Clothing Company," Morris suggested. "Sure," Abe went on. "I bet you this clothing concern says to him: 'If you want to marry my daughter, you gotter go into bankruptcy first. Then, when you're all cleaned up, I'll give you a couple of thousand dollars to start as a new beginner in another line.' Ain't it?" Morris nodded gloomily. "No, Mawruss," Abe continued. "I bet you his father-in-law is a big crook like himself." He rose to his feet and opened the large green-and-red covered book furnished by the commercial agency to which they subscribed. "I'm going to do now, Mawruss, what you should have done before you sent that present," he said. "I'm going to look up this here Advance Credit Clothing Company. I bet you he ain't even in the book--what?" 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 shipment 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.