Sidney grunted as he tucked the bill into his waistcoat. He had heard the same ultimatum once a week for the past two years, and he whistled cheerfully as he despatched one of the stock boys for a package of cigarettes. An hour later he lunched at Hammersmith's, while Abe Potash sat at an adjacent table. As he consumed a modest portion of _rostbraten_, Abe noted with a disapproving eye the cherry-stone clams, green-turtle soup and _filet Chateaubriand_ which formed the menu of the Heir Apparent; and when the latter topped off his meal with half a pint of dry champagne and a _cafe parfait_ Abe seized his hat and fairly ran from the restaurant. "If nobody would tell that feller Koblin what a lowlife bum he got it for a son, Mawruss," he said as he entered the firm's private office ten minutes later, "I will. Actually with my own eyes I seen it--the feller eats for five dollars a lunch, and he ain't with a customer nor nothing." "What is it your business what Sidney Koblin is eating, Abe?" Morris rejoined. "If you wouldn't notice every mouthful the feller puts in his face at all you would be back here a whole lot sooner. There's a feller waiting for you in the showroom over half an hour since." "Who is he?" Abe asked. "I think it's that Mr.--Who's this, from Seattle, which he was in here last fall and nearly bought from us them polo coats? I couldn't tell his face exactly, but you remember what a swell dresser that feller was." Abe peered through the screen that divided the rooms. "I think you're right, Mawruss," he said. "I couldn't remember his name," Morris added, "and that's why I didn't talk much to him. All I says was you would be in soon; and I give him a cigar from the safe." Abe nodded and walked hurriedly out of the office. As he approached his caller he extended his right hand. "How do you do?" he exclaimed, as he shook his visitor warmly by the hand. "You're looking fine." The visitor smiled in return. "I thought you were going to tell me that," he replied. "Yes, indeed! You're looking a whole lot better than the last time I seen you," Abe said. "When did you get in?" "I am here now going on half an hour already." "Well, why didn't you talk to my partner?" Abe asked. "He could fix you up just as well as me." "I did talk to him," the newcomer replied, "but he is too stuck up to talk to me at all." "Stuck up!" Abe exclaimed, with a note of real anguish in his tones. "Stuck up! Why, you don't know my partner at all, Mister--er--excuse me, do you got a card?" The stranger drew a card from his waistcoat pocket and with a proud gesture handed it to Abe. It read as follows: Z. KATZBERG I. SCHAPP KATZBERG & SCHAPP FINE PANTS 530 WEST WASHINGTON PLACE NEW YORK "I am taking your advice, Mr. Potash," he said. "I am taking your advice all round. I cut 'em off." "You cut what off?" Abe asked.