Abe shrugged his shoulders expressively.

"An idee!" he cried. "You ain't never seen this feller before,
Mawruss--ain't it?"

Morris admitted it.

"Well, then, what's the use talking?" Abe continued. "How do we know
he's this here Levin's nephew?"

"Why, Mr. Potash," Levin cried, "I ain't no crook! I got the old man in
a coffee house round the corner right now."

"Bring him up here then," Abe said, "and we'll give you your money."

Pincus Levin nodded and shuffled off toward the back stairs, while Abe
turned and gazed after him.

"I couldn't make it out at all, Mawruss," he said. "The more I look at
that feller, Mawruss, the more he makes me think of this here----"

"Good morning, Mr. Potash!" a familiar voice interrupted. It was
Harkavy.

"Hello there!" Morris cried cheerfully. "I thought you would be here."

Hakavy smiled sadly. His face was white and drawn and his shoes and
trousers were covered with mud as though he had walked the streets all
night.