Potash & Perlmutter Part 55

"Where are you going now?" Morris asked.

"I'm going home to pack my grip," Abe announced, "and I'll get that six o'clock train to Chicago, sure."

"But, Abe," Morris protested, "I thought the doctor says if you went out on the road he wouldn't be responsible for you."

"I know he did," Abe concluded as he pa.s.sed out, "but who will be responsible for Marks Pasinsky, Mawruss?"

When Abe reached Chicago the following afternoon he repaired at once to the hotel at which Marks Pasinsky was staying.

"Mr. Pasinsky ain't in his room. What?" he said to the clerk.

"Mr. Pasinsky went out about one o'clock and hasn't been back since,"

the clerk replied as he handed Abe over to a bell-boy. Fifteen minutes later Abe descended from his room with the marks of travel almost effaced, and again inquired for Marks Pasinsky.

"He ain't been back since, Mr. Potash," said the clerk.

"He didn't go out with n.o.body. No?" Abe asked.

"I think he went out with a short, dark gentleman," the clerk answered.

Abe pondered for a moment. Simon Kuhner stood full six feet tall and was a decided blond, while Chester Prosnauer, whom he knew by sight only, was as large as Marks Pasinsky himself.

"Who could that be, I wonder?" Abe murmured.

"It was a gentleman staying over at the Altringham," the clerk said.

"Then it couldn't be them," Abe concluded. "If Pasinsky comes back you should please tell him to wait. I will be back here at six, sure."

He made immediately for the business premises of Mandleberger Brothers & Co., where he found Simon Kuhner hard at work in his office.

"Hallo, Abe!" Kuhner cried as Abe entered. "They told me you was a fit subject for crutches when I asked for you the other day."

"Who told you?" Abe said without further preface. "Marks Pasinsky?"

"Marks Pasinsky?" Kuhner repeated. "Why, no. He didn't mention your name, Abe. Do you know Marks Pasinsky, too?"

"Do I know him, too?" Abe almost shrieked. "A question! Ain't he selling goods for me?"

"Is he?" Kuhner said.

"Is he!" Abe cried. "Why, you don't mean to tell me that feller ain't been in here yet?"

"Sure he was in here," Kuhner replied, "but he didn't say nothing about selling goods for you. In fact, he got a fine order from me, Abe, for a concern which I never done business with before. People by the name Sammet Brothers. What's the matter, Abe? Are you sick?"

Abe gurgled once or twice and clutched at his collar.

"Did you got the samples here what he shows you?" he managed to gasp.

"Why, Abe, what's troubling you?" Kuhner said. "A sick man like you shouldn't be attending to business at all."

"Never mind me," Abe cried. "What about them samples, Kuhner?"

"He left some samples with me, and I was to ship 'em to Sammet Brothers."

"Did you ship 'em yet?" Abe exclaimed.

"Why, what's the matter, Abe?" Kuhner commenced soothingly.

"The matter is," Abe shouted, "them samples is my samples, and there's some monkey business here."

"Monkey business!" Kuhner said. "What sort of monkey business?"

"I don't know," Abe replied, "but I'm going to find out right away.

Promise me you wouldn't ship them samples till I come back."

"Sure I will promise you, Abe," Kuhner declared. "When will you be back?"

"To-morrow morning some time," Abe concluded as he rose to leave. "I got to see a lawyer and make this here feller Pasinsky arrested."

"Don't do nothing rash, Abe," Kuhner advised.

"I won't do nothing rash," Abe promised. "I'll kill him, that's what I'll do."

He took the stairs three at a jump and fairly ran to the dry-goods store of the Arcade Mercantile Company.

"Mr. Prosnauer," he cried as he burst into Prosnauer's office in the cloak department, "my name is Mr. Potash, of Potash & Perlmutter, from New York. Did you seen it my salesman, Marks Pasinsky?"

"Sit down, Mr. Potash," Prosnauer said, "and don't excite yourself."

"I ain't exciting myself," Abe exclaimed. "I don't got to excite myself, Mr. Prosnauer. I am excited enough already when I think to myself that that lowlife Pasinsky takes my samples out of my store and comes here with my money and gets an order from you for four thousand dollars for Klinger & Klein."

"Not so fast, Mr. Potash," Prosnauer began. "I've known Marks Pasinsky for a number of years. He and I play auction pinochle together every Sat.u.r.day night when he is in Chicago, and----"

"Auction pinochle!" Abe interrupted, throwing up his hands. "_Das fehlt nur noch_!"

"As I was saying, Mr. Potash," Prosnauer went on with a withering glance at Abe, "those samples are outside, and Pasinsky has asked me to ship them to Klinger & Klein, and----"

"Ship 'em!" Abe cried. "You shouldn't ship nothing. Them samples belongs to me."

"How do I know that?" Prosnauer asked. "Is your name engraved on 'em?"

"All right," Abe cried, jumping to his feet. "All right, Mr. Prosnauer.

If you are going to make jokes with me I got nothing to say, but I give you warning that you should do absolutely nothing with them samples till I send a sheriff round for them."

"Now you're making threats," said Prosnauer.

"With people like Marks Pasinsky," Abe retorted as he paused at the door, "I don't got to make no threats. I know who I am dealing with, Mr.

Prosnauer, and so, instead I should make threats I go right away and see a lawyer, and he will deliver the goods. That's all I got to say."