* * * * * Abe tossed on his pillow all night; and when at breakfast he learned that Sidney Koblin had not returned, he swallowed with difficulty a cup of coffee and left a steak, two eggs and a plate of French-fried potatoes entirely untasted. Thus he was enabled to catch the seven-five instead of the seven-thirty train. When he found himself at the Thirty-fourth Street Ferry with almost half an hour to spare he determined to walk to the store. He trudged across Thirty-fourth Street with his hands in his pockets and his head bent toward the pavement, a prey to the most bitter reflections; and as he turned the corner of Fifth Avenue he failed to notice, walking in the opposite direction, a tall youth, well dressed save for soiled linen. The latter's eyes showed traces of unmistakable tears; and as they, too, were bent upon the pavement there ensued a violent collision, which almost threw Abe off his feet. "Why don't you look where you're going?" he began, and then he recognized the object of his wrath. "Sidney!" he yelled, clutching young Koblin's shoulder. "Where are you going?" "Let me alone," Sidney cried as he sought to free himself. "_Aber_, Sidney," Abe pleaded, "you mustn't act so strange with me. Did you got any breakfast yet?" Sidney shook his head sullenly. "Me neither," Abe cried. "Come on over to the Waldorf." Five minutes later they sat at a table in the palm room, while Abe ordered two whole portions of grapefruit, a double portion of tenderloin steak, souffle potatoes, coffee, waffles and honey. "Now, listen to me, Sidney," he began. "You shouldn't got mad at your father just because he licks you oncet, y'understand. My poor father, _selig_, he knocks the face off of me regular twicet a week, and I ain't none the worser for it." Sidney hung his head and made no reply. "Furthermore, Sidney," Abe went on, "if you are broke why don't you say so?" He pulled a roll of bills out of his pocket and handed Sidney twenty dollars. "Just a loan for a few days, y'understand," he said as the waiter brought in a loaded tray, "or a year--what's the difference--ain't it? Now, let's get busy." Together they polished off the entire trayful of food, and when Abe leaned back the waiter presented a check for ten dollars and eighty cents. "Cheap at the price," Abe remarked as he added a generous tip to the amount of the bill. "And now, Sidney, I suppose you're going back to the store?" "No, I ain't," Sidney said. "I ain't doing no good down there; so what's the use? The old man won't let me do nothing down there and they all think I'm a joke." "Well, you see, Sidney," Abe commented, "that's the way it goes. It's an old saying, but a true one: 'There's no profit for a feller in his own country.'" "And what's more," Sidney continued, "they ain't given me a chance neither. What I want to do is to sell goods on the road."