For ten minutes Aaron argued with his uncle in front of Sammet Brothers' building, but all to no purpose, for Uncle Mosha remained unmoved. Either he was to receive the seven hundred and fifty dollars on the signing of the contract or the entire deal was off; and at length he prevailed. "All right," Aaron said, "you shall have the seven hundred and fifty, but one thing you must got to do. When we go into Leon Sammet's loft I want you to let me and Leon speak a few words, something alone together. Are you agreeable?" "Sure, why not?" Uncle Mosha agreed. "You got to work the feller up to buying the house, ain't yer?" Aaron nodded gloomily as they entered the elevator, and when it stopped at Sammet Brothers' floor he strode out So rapidly that Uncle Mosha, who had never before visited Sammet Brothers', hardly noticed his nephew's exit. Before he could follow Aaron the elevator attendant slammed the door, and it was not reopened until Uncle Mosha had expressed his agitation in a burst of spirited profanity. "Did you see that, Aaron?" he exclaimed after he had caught up to his nephew. "I come pretty close to getting killed just now in that there elevator." "Why don't you keep your eyes open?" Aaron asked callously. "Now you sit down here and wait until I am coming out." He entered Leon Sammet's private office, and as soon as Uncle Mosha found himself alone in the showroom he clenched the butt of his cigar between his yellow teeth and explored his pockets for pencil and paper. Having found them, he was soon plunged in a maze of figures representing the profit in going short of seven hundred shares on a one-point margin, assuming that the market dropped eight points in ten days. "Hallo, Aaron," Leon Sammet cried when he caught sight of the younger Kronberg. Aaron nodded, with half-closed eyes. "Sit down, Aaron," Leon continued; "you look worried." "I bet yer," Aaron replied. "What d'ye think of that sucker?" "What's Alex been doing now?" Leon asked. "Alex! What d'ye mean, Alex?" Aaron said. "Alex I ain't worrying about at all. I mean Uncle Mosha Kronberg." Forthwith he unfolded to Leon the sum of his uncle's iniquities, sparing no detail of his own well-nigh ruined prospects and ending with an account of Uncle Mosha's interrupted deal with Morris Perlmutter. Leon slammed the top of his desk with his open hand. "Before I would let that shark, Perlmutter, get the house I would buy it myself." "Sure, I know!" Aaron replied. "I thought you would, Leon; but that ain't necessary. All I want you to do is this, Leon. I told the old man I could get you to buy the house for forty-three thousand dollars." "Forty-three thousand?" Leon exclaimed. "Why that house ain't worth forty-three thousand!"