"I will not sell the lease!" he avowed before a word had been
spoken.

"We know that," admitted Close; "but why?"

Ersten hesitated a moment.

"Oh, well; I tell you," he consented with an almost malignant glance
in the direction of Johnny. "All my customers know me in that
place."

"Your customers would find you anywhere," Close complimented him.

"Maybe they do," admitted Ersten. "My cousin, Otto Gruber, had a
fine saloon business. He moved across the street--and broke up."

"It was not the same," Close assured him. "In saloons, men want to
feel at home. In your business, your customers come because they get
the best--and they care nothing for the shop itself."

"They like the place," asserted Ersten. "I've made a good living
there for almost forty years. Why should I move?"

"Because you would be nearer Fifth Avenue," Johnny ventured to
interject, and spoke to the chauffeur, who drew up to the curb.
"This is the place I have in mind, Mr. Ersten."

"They come to me where I am," insisted Ersten, refusing to look,
with unglazed eyes.