Nevertheless, he placed the ring on the third finger of his left hand, with the stone turned in, and carefully wrapping up the pin in tissue-paper he placed it in his waistcoat pocket. The next day was Wednesday, and he screwed the pin into his shirt-front underneath a four-in-hand scarf. On Thursday he wore the ring with the stone exposed, and on Friday he discarded the four-in-hand scarf for a bow tie and shamelessly flaunted both ring and pin. "Mawruss," Abe commented on Saturday, "must you stick out your little finger when you smoke it a cigar?" "Habits what I was born with, Abe," Morris replied. "I can't help it none." "Maybe you was born with a diamond ring on your little finger. What?" Abe jeered. Morris glared at his partner. "If you think that I enjoy it wearing that ring, Abe," he declared, "you are much mistaken. You got us to take these here diamonds, Abe, and if they got stole on us, Abe, we are not only out the thousand dollars, but we would also got to pay it so much more as Hymie Kotzen would sue us for in the courts. I got to wear this here ring, Abe, and that's all there is to it." He walked away to the rear of the store with the air of a martyr, while Abe gazed after him in silent admiration. Two weeks sped quickly by, during which Morris safeguarded the diamonds with the utmost zest and enjoyment, and at length the settling day arrived. Morris was superintending the unpacking of piece goods in the cutting-room when Abe darted upstairs. "Mawruss," he hissed, "Hymie Kotzen is downstairs." By a feat of legerdemain that a conjurer might have envied, Morris transferred the pin and ring to his waistcoat pocket and followed Abe to the show-room. "Well, Hymie," Morris cried, "we thought you would be prompt on the day. Ain't it?" Hymie smiled a sickly smirk in which there was as little mirth as there was friendliness. "You got another think coming," Hymie replied. "What d'ye mean?" Morris exclaimed. "I'm up against it, boys," Hymie explained. "I expected to get it a check for two thousand from Heller, Blumenkrohn this morning." "And didn't it come?" Abe asked. "Sure it come," Hymie replied, "but it was only sixteen hundred and twenty dollars. They claim it three hundred and eighty dollars for shortage in delivery, so I returned 'em the check." "You returned 'em the check, Hymie?" Morris cried. "And we got to wait for our thousand dollars because you made it a shortage in delivery." "I didn't make no shortage in delivery," Hymie declared. "Well, Hymie," Abe broke in, "you say it yourself Heller, Blumenkrohn is gilt-edge, A Number One people. They ain't going to claim no shortage if there wasn't none, Hymie." "I guess you don't know Louis Blumenkrohn, Abe," Hymie retorted. "He claims it shortage before he unpacks the goods already." "Well, what has that got to do with us, Hymie?" Morris burst out. "You see how it is, boys," Hymie explained; "so I got to ask it you a couple of weeks' extension."