"Don't you?" Uncle Mosha exclaimed. "Well, I'll tell you. It's like this." "_Stigun!_" Aaron hissed. "Don't open your mouth, Uncle Mosha." "What d'ye mean, don't open my mouth?" Uncle Mosha retorted. "D'ye think I'm a crook? If I got a house which it don't belong to me at all, then I don't want it." He turned his back on Aaron and straightway he narrated the full circumstances surrounding his purchase of the Madison Street house. "Certainly I ain't no lawyer nor nothing," he continued, "but when old Max Baum died you was due to get just as much as your Uncle Nathan out of his estate, and if Nathan Baum swindled me out of my money by claiming he owns the whole thing that couldn't give me no right to your share, ain't it?" Max nodded. "Then what ain't mine I don't want at all," Uncle Mosha continued; "and so, Maxie, you and me gives Leon Sammet here a deed of the house and Leon pays us the balance of eight thousand dollars. Out of that you get four thousand three hundred and seventy-five dollars, because me, I already got seven hundred and fifty dollars. Are you agreeable to fix it that way, Sammet?" Leon looked at Aaron Kronberg, who was gulping convulsively in an effort to express adequately all he felt. At length he commenced to address his uncle in husky tones. "You cut-throat!" he croaked. "You robber, you! You shed my blood! Give me back my seven hundred and fifty dollars." "Your seven hundred and fifty!" Uncle Mosha exclaimed. "That's what I said," Aaron went on. His voice rose to a hoarse scream as he proceeded. "Did you think any one else would give forty-three thousand dollars for that dawg-house but me? Sammet ain't got nothing to do with it; he's only a dummy." "So!" Leon Sammet said bitterly. "I am only a dummy, am I?" "Wait _one_ minute!" Uncle Mosha cried. "Do you mean to told me, Mr. Sammet, that you was buying this here house for Aaron?" "Well, that's about the size of it," Leon admitted. "Then what are you kicking about?" Uncle Mosha said. "You are a dummy." Throughout the moving scenes of that entire afternoon Leon had acted the part of disinterested onlooker to the point of lethargy, but now he fairly glared at Uncle Mosha. "I don't got to stay here to be called names," he said. "My trouble's what you got to stay here for," Uncle Mosha retorted. "Yes, boys; what d'ye think for a highwayman like that Aaron Kronberg?" Aaron blushed a fiery red. "Come on, Leon," he said. "Let's get out of this." "Hold on!" Max Gershon shouted. "Don't you do nothing of the kind, Sammet. Me and Mr. Mosha Kronberg we own this here house together, and he made a contract with you to sell you this here house which I stand by. Do you want to take it _oder_ not? Because if not, we would keep your seven hundred and fifty dollars." Leon Sammet emitted a huge guffaw. "That worries me a whole lot," he replied. "As Aaron just told you, the seven hundred and fifty belongs to him."