Potash & Perlmutter Part 67

"Forty-one five," the auctioneer repeated, and B. Rashkin turned to look at the bidder. He started visibly as he recognized Abe, who bowed coldly.

"Why, hallo, Mr. Potash," Rashkin exclaimed. "I didn't know you was in the market for property."

"Why not?" Abe said.

"Well, on account you got a partner who----"

"You don't got to rub it in, Mr. Rashkin," Abe interrupted. "If my partner did know a good thing when he seen it, Mr. Rashkin, I don't need to be reminded of it."

"A good thing!" Rashkin said in puzzled accents. "Why, I ain't----"

He stopped in time and forced himself to smile amiably.

"Yes, Mr. Rashkin," Abe went on, as he imperceptibly edged away from the crowd. "Would you believe it, that feller tells me this morning he's got already a fine offer for the house?"

"You don't tell me," Rashkin said as they approached one of the salesroom doors. He too was edging away from the crowd and congratulated himself that Abe had made no further bid. "I'm glad he should get it.

For _mein_ part, Mr. Potash, I would be glad to sell my house, too."

Here he made a rapid mental calculation and arrived approximately at the price that would yield Morris a profit.

"I had myself an offer of forty-six seven-fifty for my house, Mr.

Potash," he hazarded.

Abe was ostentatiously surprised.

"So!" he said, with an elaborate a.s.sumption of recovering his composure.

"Yes, Mr. Potash," Rashkin went on. He was beginning to feel that the figure was too low. "That's the offer I received and I wouldn't take a cent less than forty-eight."

"Let me see," Abe mused, as they paused in front of a bakery and lunchroom a few doors down the street. "You got a first mortgage thirty-three thousand dollars, and that would give you a pretty big equity there, Mr. Rashkin."

"Wouldn't you come inside and take maybe a cup of coffee, Mr. Potash?"

Rashkin suggested.

"I shouldn't mind if I will," Abe said; and they entered the bakery together. "Would you want all cash above the mortgage, Mr. Rashkin?"

"Just now, Mr. Potash," Rashkin replied, "I want a little something to eat. Give me a piece of _stollen_ and a cup of coffee."

"Milk separate?" the waitress asked.

B. Rashkin nodded haughtily and then turned to Abe.

"What will you have, Mr. Potash?" he asked.

"Give me also a cup of coffee and a tongue sandwich," he announced to the waitress.

"White or rye bread?" said the waitress.

"Rye bread," Abe replied.

"We ain't got no rye bread; I could give you a roll sandwich," she declared solemnly.

"All right, give me a roll tongue sandwich," Abe concluded, and once more addressed B. Rashkin.

"Of course you would take back a second mortgage, Mr. Rashkin," he said.

"Well, I might take two or three thousand dollars, a purchase-money mortgage, but no more," Rashkin replied, as the waitress returned empty-handed.

"Rolls is all out," she said. "I'll have to give you white bread."

"All right," Abe replied.

"Did you say Swiss cheese or store cheese?" she inquired mildly.

"Tongue!" Abe and B. Rashkin roared with one voice.

"Well, don't get mad about it," the waitress cried, as she whisked away toward the coffee urns.

"I'll tell you the truth, Mr. Potash," B. Rashkin continued. "I give that house to a number of real estaters, already, and I'm considering a good offer from a feller what Ferdy Rothschild brings me. The feller makes me a fine offer, Mr. Potash, only he wants me to take back a second mortgage of five thousand dollars; and I told Ferdy Rothschild if he could get his customer to make it all cash above a second mortgage of three thousand dollars I would consider it. Ferdy says he expects his customer in to see him this afternoon, already, and he will let me know before I go home to-night."

In this rare instance B. Rashkin was undergoing the novel experience of speaking the truth only slightly modified, for that very morning Ferdy Rothschild had produced a purchaser who was willing to pay forty-six thousand dollars for Rashkin's house. This deal the purchaser proposed to consummate by taking the property subject to a first mortgage of thirty-three thousand dollars, by executing a second mortgage of seven thousand dollars, and by paying the six thousand balance of the purchase price in cash.

B. Rashkin had told Ferdy that if the customer would agree to pay eight thousand five hundred dollars in cash and to reduce the second mortgage proportionately, the deal would be closed; and Ferdy had promised to let him know during the afternoon.

"Lookyhere, Rashkin," Abe said at length, "what's the use beating bushes around? You know as well as I do that me and my partner don't get along well together, and I would like to teach that sucker a lesson that he shouldn't monkey no more with real estate, y'understand. I'll tell you right now, Rashkin, I would be willing to lose maybe a couple hundred dollars if I could get that house from you and sell it to the feller what makes the offer to Mawruss Perlmutter."

"You and Perlmutter must be pretty good friends together," Rashkin commented. "But, anyhow, I am perfectly willing to help you all I can, because when a feller practically calls you a bloodsucker and a horse-thief, Mr. Potash, naturally you don't feel too friendly toward him. But one thing I _got_ to say, Mr. Potash, and that is I couldn't sell my house for a penny less than forty-eight thousand dollars."

Abe put down his cup of coffee and stared at Rashkin.

"That's a lot of money, Mr. Rashkin," Abe said, "and that would mean pretty near twelve thousand cash."

B. Rashkin nodded calmly and Abe pondered for a moment.

"Well, Rashkin," Abe said, "I am willing I should spend some money, y'understand, and so I would make you this offer: Would you give me an option on the house at forty-eight thousand for two weeks, supposing I paid you, we will say, two hundred dollars?"

Rashkin shook his head.

"We will say then two hundred and fifty dollars," Abe said; but Rashkin declined.

Immediately they commenced to bargain vigorously, and at intervals of five minutes each modified his price for the option, until half an hour had expired, when they met at four hundred dollars.

"All right," B. Rashkin cried, "let us go and see Milton M. Sugarman and draw up the option."

"I am agreeable," Abe said; "any lawyer could draw it up, so far as I am concerned."

They rose from the table without leaving the customary nickel for the waitress and, as they pa.s.sed out of the door, she glared after them and indignantly adjusted her pompadour with both hands.

"Pipe them two high-livers," she hissed to the waitress at the next table. "I knew them guys was going to pa.s.s me up as soon as I laid me eyes on 'em."