"That's what I told it young Feinholz," Morris replied, "and he says supposing we should, so to speak, have a fire, he guarantees it we would collect our money every cent of it right here in New York. And anyhow, Abe, any objections what you got to this here Farmers and Ranchers' policy wouldn't be no use anyhow." "No?" Abe said. "Why not?" "Because I just sent it Rudy Feinholz a check for the premium," Morris said, and walked out of the show-room before Abe could enunciate all the profanity that rose to his lips. Louis Feinholz's order was shipped the following week, and with it went the cape for his show window. Abe himself superintended the packing, for business was dull in the firm's show-room. A particularly warm March had given way to a frigid, rainy April, and now that the promise of an early spring had failed of fulfillment cancelations were coming in thick and fast. Hence, Abe took rather a pessimistic view of things. "I bet yer Feinholz will have yet some kicks about them goods, Mawruss," he said. "When I come down Feinholz's street this morning, Mawruss, it looked like Johnstown after the flood. I bet yer Feinholz ain't making enough in that store just now to pay electric-light bills." "I don't know about that, Abe," said Morris. "Louis carries a mighty attractive line in his winders. Them small Fifth Avenue stores ain't got nothing on him when it comes to the line of sample garments he carries in his show winders, Abe." "Sure I know," Abe rejoined; "but he ain't got nothing on one of them piker stores when it comes right down to the stock he carries on the inside, Mawruss. Yes, Mawruss, when I sell goods to a feller like Feinholz, Mawruss, I'm afraid for my life until I get my money." "Well, you needn't be afraid for Feinholz, Abe," said Morris, "because, in the first place, the feller has got a fine rating; and then again, he couldn't fire them goods back on us because, for the price, there ain't a better-made line in the country." "I hope you're right, Mawruss," Abe replied as he rang the bell for the freight elevator. "It would be a fine comeback if he should return them goods on us after we give his nephew the insurance we did." Again he pressed the elevator bell. "What's the matter with that elevator, Mawruss?" he said. "It takes a year to get a package on to the sidewalk." "That's on account of somebody moves in downstairs, Abe," Morris answered. "Kaskel Schwartz, what used to be foreman for Pinkel Brothers, him and Moe Feigel goes as partners together in skirts." "Is that so?" Abe said, jamming his thumb on the elevator bell. "I hope he don't got the cigarettel habit." At length the elevator arrived, and Jake, the shipping clerk, carried out the brown paper parcels comprising Feinholz's shipment. "If that's the last I seen of them garments," Abe said as he returned to the show-room, "I'm a lucky man."