"That's the feller," Abe said. "There's a man, Max, which he is honest like the day and smart as a cutting machine. I know him since he was a baby, y'understand, and he's worked his way up till now he's got a fine business in Bridgetown. Only yesterday he says to me if he could get a live partner with a little capital, y'understand, he would soon got the biggest store in Bridgetown." "What for a town is Bridgetown?" Max asked. "Bridgetown is all right, Max," Abe said. "I give you my word, Max, they got so many factories there which they burn soft coal, on the brightest days you couldn't see the sun at all. It is an elegant place, Max." "And what is more, Max," Morris added, "only last Saturday night, Alex tells me, the store was so crowded two saleswomen fainted." "It sounds good," Max admitted. "Who did you say owns the store?" "Alex Kronberg," Morris replied. "Kronberg--Kronberg," Max repeated. "The name sounds familiar. When did you say he would be here?" "He ought to be in here every minute," Abe said. Hardly had he spoken when the elevator door clanged and Alex himself entered. He glistened with perspiration, and his round, good-humoured face bore a broad grin. "Phoo-ee!" he cried. "I'm all heated up." "What's the trouble, Alex?" Morris asked. "I just run into Aaron and Uncle Mosha coming out of a coffee house, and the way them two suckers cussed me out, Mawruss!--you wouldn't believe it at all. I couldn't understand what they was talking about, Mawruss, but they mentioned your name and something about Mosha's house on Madison Street." Abe glared at Morris and then turned to Alex with a forced smile. "Don't you bother yourself about them fellers, Alex," he said. "What do I care for 'em, Abe?" Alex replied. "I got my own troubles." "Sure," Morris broke in; "but what did they say about the house, Alex?" "So far what I could hear, Mawruss, Aaron says you are trying to buy from Mosha the house." "No such thing, Alex, believe me," Abe interrupted. "But Aaron says he's already got a customer for the house," Alex went on; "and who d'ye think it is?" Abe wiped his forehead with his handkerchief and continued to glare at Morris. "I don't know who it is," Abe said, "and, what's more, I don't care. I want to introduce you to a friend of mine, Alex. This is Mr. Max Gershon, from Johnsville, Texas." "I'm pleased to meetcher, Mr. Gershon," Alex replied. "Yes, Mawruss, Aaron says he sold the house already, and who d'ye think he sold it to?" Morris made an inarticulate noise which he intended as an expression of curiosity. "A friend of yours by the name Leon Sammet," Alex Kronberg said. * * * * * "You see how it is?" Aaron Kronberg said to his Uncle Mosha as they passed down Fifth Avenue after their encounter with Alex. "You see how it is? The feller is a desperate character, Uncle Mosha. You couldn't make him mad even."