Elkan Lubliner, American. Glass Montague
up the racks, everything was in place."
Suddenly a wave of recollection swept over him and he gave tongue like a foxhound.
"Oo-oo-ee!" he wailed and sank into the nearest chair.
"Markulies," Polatkin cried out, "for Heaven's sake, what is it?"
"He must of ganvered 'em!" Markulies wailed. "Right in front of my eyes he done it."
"Who done it?" Scheikowitz cried.
"Lubliner," Markulies moaned.
"Lubliner!" Polatkin cried. "Do you mean Elkan Lubliner?"
"That's what I said," Markulies went on. "Comes half-past six last night, and that ganef makes me a schlag in the stummick, Mr. Polatkin; and the first thing you know he goes to work and steals from me my keys, Mr. Polatkin, and cleans out the whole place yet."
"Lubliner was here last night after we are going home?" Polatkin asked.
"Sure, he was," Markulies replied – "at half-past six yet."
"Then that only goes to show what a liar you are," Polatkin declared, "because myself I am letting Elkan go home at one o'clock on account the feller is so sick, understand me, he could hardly walk out of the place at all. Furthermore, he says he is going right straight to bed when he leaves here; so, if you want to explain how it is the garments disappear when you are in the place here alone, Markulies, go ahead with your lies. Might Mr. Scheikowitz stole 'em maybe – or I did! What?"
Markulies began to rock and sway in an agony of woe.
"I should never stir from this here chair, Mr. Polatkin," Markulies protested, "and my mother also, which I am sending her to Kalvaria – regular like clockwork – ten dollars a month, she should never walk so far from here bis that door, if that ganef didn't come in here last night and make away with the garments!"
"Koosh!" Polatkin bellowed, and made a threatening gesture toward Markulies just as Scheikowitz stepped forward.
"That'll do, Polatkin," he said. "If the feller lies we could easy prove it – ain't it? In the first place, where is Elkan?"
"He must of been sick this morning on account he ain't here yet," Polatkin said.
"Schon gut," Scheikowitz rejoined; "if he ain't here he ain't here, verstehst du, aber he is boarding with Mrs. Feinermann, which her husband is Kupferberg Brothers' foreman – ain't it?"
Polatkin nodded and Scheikowitz turned to Markulies.
"Markulies," he said, "do me the favour and stop that! You are making me dizzy the way you are acting. Furthermore, Markulies, you should put on right away your hat and run over to Kupferberg Brothers' and say to Mr. B. Kupferberg you are coming from Polatkin & Scheikowitz, and ask him is he agreeable he should let Marx Feinermann come over and see us – and if he wants to know what for tell him we want to get from him a recommendation for a feller which is working for us."
He turned to his partner as Markulies started for the stairway.
"And a helluva recommendation we would get from him, too, I bet yer!" he added. "Wasserbauer tells me Elkan was in his place yesterday, and, though he don't watch every bit of food a customer puts into his mouth, understand me, he says that he eats dill pickles one right after the other; and then, Polatkin, the young feller gets right up and walks right out of the place without giving any order even. Wasserbauer says he knows it was Elkan because one day I am sending him over to look for you there. Wasserbauer asks him the simple question what he wants you for, and right away Elkan acts fresh to him like anything."
"He done right to act fresh," Polatkin said as they walked back to the showroom. "What is it Wasserbauer's business what you want me for?"
"But how comes a young feller like him to be eating at Wasserbauer's?" Scheikowitz continued. "Where does he get the money from he should eat there?"
"The fact is" – said Flaxberg, who up to this point had remained a silent listener to the entire controversy – "the fact is, Mr. Scheikowitz, yesterday I am taking pity on the feller on account he is looking sick; and I took him into Wasserbauer's and invited him he should eat a little something."
Here he paused and licked his lips maliciously.
"And though I don't want to say nothing against the feller, understand me," he continued, "he begins right away to talk about horseracing."
"Horseracing?" Polatkin cried.
Flaxberg nodded and made a gesture implying more plainly than the words themselves: "Can you beat it?"
"Horseracing!" Scheikowitz repeated. "Well, what do you think of that for a lowlife bum?"
"And when I called him down for gambling, Mr. Polatkin, he walks right out, so independent he is. Furthermore, though it's none of my business, Mr. Polatkin," Flaxberg went on, "Markulies tells me this morning early the same story like he tells you – before he knew the goods was missing even."
"Sure, I believe you," Polatkin retorted. "He was getting the whole thing fixed up beforehand. That's the kind of Rosher he is."
As he spoke Markulies entered, and there followed on his heels the short, stout figure of Marx Feinermann.
"What did I told you?" Markulies cried. "The feller ain't home sick at all. He eats his supper last night, and this morning he is got two eggs for his breakfast even."
"S'nough, Markulies!" Polatkin interrupted. "You got too much to say for yourself. Sit down, Feinermann, and tell us what is the reason Elkan ain't here this morning."
"You tell me and I would tell you," Feinermann replied. "All I know is the feller leaves my house the usual time this morning; only before he goes he acts fresh to my wife like anything, Mr. Polatkin. He kicks the coffee ain't good, even when my wife is giving him two eggs to his breakfast anyhow. What some people expects for three-fifty a week you wouldn't believe at all!"
"What do you mean – three-fifty a week?" Polatkin demanded. "He pays your wife five dollars a week schon six months ago already. He told me so himself."
"I ain't responsible for what that boy tells you," Feinermann said stolidly. "All I know is he pays me three-fifty a week; and you would think he is used to eating chicken every day from zu Hause yet, the way he is all the time kicking about his food."
Markulies snorted indignantly.
"He should got the Machshovos Mrs. Kaller hands it to me," he said – "gekochte Brustdeckel day in, day out; and then I am accused that I steal samples yet! I am sick and tired of it!"
"Stiegen!" Polatkin cried. "Listen here to me, Feinermann. Do you mean to told me the boy ain't paying you five dollars a week board?"
As Feinermann opened his mouth to reply the showroom door opened and Elkan himself entered.
"Loafer!" Scheikowitz roared. "Where was you?"
Elkan made no reply, but walked to the centre of the showroom.
"Mr. Polatkin," he said, "could I speak to you a few words something?"
Polatkin jumped to his feet.
"Before you speak to me a few words something," he said, "I want to ask you what the devil you are telling me lies that you pay Mrs. Feinermann five dollars a week board?"
"What are you bothering about that for now?" Scheikowitz interrupted. "And, anyhow, you could see by the way the feller is red like blood that he lies to you."
"Furthermore," Feinermann added, "my wife complains to me last night that young loafer takes her uptown yesterday on a wild fool's errand, understand me, and together they get pretty near kicked out of a drygoods store."
"She told you that, did she?" Elkan cried.
"That's what I said!" Feinermann retorted.
"Then, if that's the case, Feinermann," Elkan replied, "all I can say is, I am paying your wife five dollars a week board schon six months already, and if she is holding out on you a dollar and a half a week that's her business – not mine."
"Don't