At length, on the Thursday following Miss Kreitmann's resignation, while Abe was flicking an imaginary grain of dust from the spotless array of samples, the store door burst open and a short, stout person entered. Abe looked up and, emitting an exclamation, rushed forward with both arms extended in hearty greeting. "_Mis_ter Hahn," he cried, "how _do_ you do?" The newcomer drew himself up haughtily, and his small mustache seemed to shed sparks of indignation. Abe stopped short in hurt astonishment. "Is th-there a-anything the matter?" he faltered. "Is there anything the matter!" Mr. Hahn roared. "Is there anything the matter! That's a fine question for _you_ to ask." "W-w-why?" Abe stuttered. "Ain't everything all right?" Mr. Hahn, with an effort that bulged every vein in his bald forehead, subsided into comparative calm. "Mr. Potash," he said, "I bought from you six bills of goods in the last few months. Ain't it?" Abe nodded. "And I never claimed no shortages and never made no kicks nor nothing, but always paid up prompt on the day like a gentleman. Ain't it?" Abe nodded again. "And this is what I get for it," Mr. Hahn went on bitterly. "My own niece on my wife's side, I put her in your care. I ask you to take it an interest in her. You promise me you will do your best. You tell me and Max Fried you will look after her"--he hesitated, almost overcome by emotion--"like a father. You said that when I bought the second bill. And what happens? The only chance she gets to make a decent match, you write me the feller ain't no good. Naturally, I think you got some sense, and so I busts the affair up." "Well," Abe said, "I did write you he wasn't no good, and he wasn't no good, neither. Ain't he just made it a failure?" Mr. Hahn grew once more infuriated. "A failure!" he yelled. "I should say he did make a failure. _What_ a failure he made! Fool! Donkey! The man got away with a hundred thousand dollars and is living like a prince in the old country. And poor Gussie, she loved him, too! She cries night and day." He stopped to wipe a sympathetic tear. "She cries pretty easy," Abe said. "She cried when we fired Mannie Gubin, too." Hahn bristled again. "You insult me. What?" he cried. "You try to get funny with me. Hey? All right. I fix you. So far what I can help it, never no more do you sell me or Max or anybody what is friends of ours a button. Not a button! Y'understand?" He wheeled about and the next moment the store door banged with cannon-like percussion. Morris came from behind a rack of raincoats and tiptoed toward Abe. "Well, Abe," he said, "you put your foot in it that time." Abe mopped the perspiration from his brow and bit the end off a cigar. "We done business before we had Philip Hahn for a customer, Mawruss," he said, "and I guess we'll do it again. Ain't it?" * * * * *