away all morning right in the busy season. Besides, Mawruss, since when
did you become to be so charitable all of a suddent?"

"Me charitable?" Morris cried indignantly. "I ain't charitable, Abe.
_Gott soll hüten!_ I leave that to suckers like Max Linkheimer. But when
I know a decent, respectable feller is being put into jail for something
which he didn't do at all, Abe, then that's something else again."

At this juncture the elevator arrived, and as he plunged in he shouted
that he would be back before noon. Abe returned to the rear of the loft
where a number of rush orders had been arranged for shipment. Under his
instruction and supervision the stock boy nailed down the top boards of
the packing cases, but in nearly every instance, after the case was
strapped and stencilled, they discovered they had left one garment out,
and the whole process had to be repeated. Thus it was nearly one o'clock
before Abe's task was concluded, and although he had breakfasted late
that morning, when he looked at his watch he became suddenly famished.
"I could starve yet," he muttered, "for all that feller cares."

He walked up and down the showroom floor in an ecstasy of imaginary
hunger, and as he was making the hundredth trip the elevator door
opened and Max Linkheimer stepped out. His low-cut waistcoat disclosed
that his shirtfront, ordinarily of a glossy white perfection, had fallen
victim to a profuse perspiration. Even his collar had not escaped the
flood, and as for his I. O. M. A. charm, it seemed positively tarnished.

"Say, lookyhere, Potash," he began, "what d'ye mean by sending your
partner to bail out that _ganef_?"

"Me send my partner to bail out a _ganef_?" Abe exclaimed. "What are you