"Mr. Potash," she said in businesslike tones, "the Longchamps Store just rung up and says about them garments what they returned that it was all a mistake, and that they was all right and you should reship 'em right away." The show-room was flooded with sunlight and a mild spring breeze had almost dissipated the acrid smell of smoke. "What did I tell you, Mawruss?" Abe said. "Feinholz is like them suckers in Kansas City. He was scared he couldn't sell them capes in wet weather, and now it's cleared up fine he wants 'em bad, Mawruss. I'll go and see what happened to 'em." He hustled off toward the rear of the loft while Morris turned to Miss Cohen. "Well, Miss Cohen," he said, "how did you make out by the fire just now?" Miss Cohen blushed and patted her pompadour. "Oh, Mr. Perlmutter," she said, "I was scared stiff, and Mr. Margulies, the expressman, pretty near carried me up to the roof and we stays there till the fireman says we should come down." "And where's Margulies?" Morris asked. "He's gone back to the cutting-room," Miss Cohen replied. "When he seen the smoke coming up he shuts quick the iron door on the freight elevator and everything's all right in the cutting-room, only a little water by the elevator shaft." "And how about the packages from Feinholz?" Morris continued. But before Miss Cohen could reply Abe burst into the show-room with a broad grin on his face. "That's a good joke on Feinholz, Mawruss," he said. "All the fire was in the elevator shaft and them garments what he returned it us is nothing but ashes." "But, Abe," Morris began, when the telephone bell trilled impatiently. Abe took up the receiver. "Hallo!" he said. "Yes, this is Potash. Oh, hallo, Feinholz!" "Say, Potash," Feinholz said at the other end of the wire, "we got the store full of people here. Couldn't you send up them capes right away?" Abe put his hand over the mouthpiece of the 'phone. "It's Feinholz," he said to Morris. "He wants them capes right away. What shall I tell him?" "Tell him nothing," Morris cried. "The first thing you know you will say something to that feller, and he sues us yet for damages because we didn't deliver the goods." Abe hesitated for a minute. "You talk to him," he said at length. Morris seized the receiver from his partner. "Hallo, Feinholz," he yelled. "We don't want nothing to say to you at all. We are through with you. That's all. Good-by." He hung up the receiver and turned to Abe. "When I deal with a crook like Feinholz," he said, "I'm afraid for my life." Ten minutes later he went out to lunch and when he returned he brandished the early edition of an evening paper. "What you think it says here, Abe?" he cried. "It says the fire downstairs was caused by an operator throwing a cigarettel in the clipping bin. Ain't that a quincidence, Abe?"