activity.

"Nathan," Abe yelled to the shipping clerk, "fetch the broom. The place
looks like a pigsty here!"

He turned to Morris with excited gesture.

"Do me the favour, Mawruss," he said; "tell a couple of them young
fellers from the cutting room to come in here. Them sample-racks ain't
been straightened up for a week. I am going round to the barber shop,
Mawruss, and I would be right back."

* * * * *

It lacked one minute of five and Abe and Morris sat at their respective
desks in the firm's office, when Miss Cohen, the bookkeeper, knocked
timidly at the door.

"A gentleman wants to see you, Mr. Potash," she said. "He wouldn't give
his name."

Abe cleared his throat with an effort.

"Tell him he should come right in," he croaked; and a moment later a
tall personage, clad in a fur overcoat and wearing a freshly ironed silk
hat, appeared in the doorway.

"Is this Mr. Potash?" he asked in rounded, oratorical tones.

Abe nodded. For a moment he was bereft of speech and he jerked his head