the first time the presence of another customer.

"How much did you say that there coffee samovar was?" cried a familiar
voice.

"I told you before, Mr. Klinger," Flachs said, "that ain't no samovar.
That's a perculater and it cost me, so sure as I am standing here,
fifteen dollars, so I would let you have it for twelve-fifty on account
its being shopworn."

"Take ten dollars and make an end," rejoined Klinger, tendering a bill.

"For ten dollars I could give you a fine piece cut glass, Mr. Klinger,"
Flachs insisted.

By way of answer Klinger tucked away the ten-dollar bill he had taken
from his waistcoat pocket, and Flachs seized the coffee percolator with
both hands.

"I'll wrap it up for you right away," he said, and then it was that
Klinger recognized Morris, who had been standing unnoticed in the
background.

"Hello, Perlmutter!" he said; "what are you doing here?"

"I guess I am doing the same what you are doing, Klinger," Morris
replied stiffly. "I am buying for a customer a present. Ain't it?"

Klinger nodded.