Before Morris could reply, the letter-carrier entered with the morning mail. While Abe continued to run his thumb down the columns of the commercial agency book, Morris began to open the envelopes. Both their heads were bent over their tasks, when an exclamation arose simultaneously from each.

"Now, what d'ye think of that?" said Abe.

"Did y' ever see anything like it?" Morris cried.

"What is it?" Abe asked.

For answer, Morris thrust a letter into his partner's hand. It was headed, "The Advance Credit Clothing Company--Marcus Bramson, Proprietor," and read as follows:

MESSRS. POTASH & PERLMUTTER.

GENTS:

Your shipment of the 5th is to hand, and in reply would say that we are returning it _via_ Blue Line on account Miss Tillie Bramson's engagement is broken. We understand that lowlife H. Maimin got into you for six hundred and fifty dollars. Believe me, he done us for more than that. Our Mr. Bramson will be in New York shortly, and will call to look at your line. Hoping we will be able to do business with you,

Yours truly, THE ADVANCE CREDIT CLOTHING COMPANY, Per T. B.

Abe Potash laid down the letter with a sigh, while his thumb still rested caressingly on the open page of the mercantile agency book.

"So he's going to send back the present!" he said. "That man Marcus Bramson, proprietor, has a big heart, Mawruss. He's a man with fine feelings and a fine disposition, Mawruss. He's got a fine rating too, Mawruss--seventy-five to a hundred thousand, first credit!" He closed the book almost lovingly. "D'ye think they would give the money back for that present, Mawruss?"

"I don't know," said Morris. "Minnie bought it, and she told me it was a big bargain. It was a sale, she said, but I guess they'll take it back."

"What did it look like?" Abe said.

"I didn't see it," Morris replied. "They sent it direct from the store, but I took Minnie's word for it. She said it was fine value."

"And Minnie," Abe concluded, "is a fine, up-to-date woman."

Two days later, Abe Potash spotted the name of Marcus Bramson in the "Arrival of Buyers" column of a morning newspaper.

"Mawruss," he cried, "he's come!"

"Who's come?" Morris asked.

"Marcus Bramson," Abe replied, reaching for his hat. "I'm going over to the Bingler House now to meet him. You wait here till I come back. I bet you we sell him a big bill of goods!"

As Abe went out of the store by the front door, an expressman, bearing a square wooden box, entered the rear alley. He brought the package straight to Miss Cohen, who signed a receipt, and summoned Mr.

Perlmutter. Morris proceeded to pry off the cover.

"This is something what Mrs. Perlmutter bought for Hyman Maimin's wedding present," he explained. "I ain't never seen it yet."

He pulled out a number of wads of tissue paper. When he finally reached a piece of silverware, he turned the box upside down and shook out the remainder of its contents upon a sample table.

"Oh, Mr. Perlmutter," Mist Cohen exclaimed, clasping her hands, "what a beautiful bonbon dish! What a lovely wedding present!"

Morris looked at the bonbon dish, and beads of perspiration started on his forehead.

"Ain't Mrs. Perlmutter got good taste!" Miss Cohen went on enthusiastically.

Morris said nothing, but picked up the silver dish. Examining the polished centre carefully, he discerned the indistinct initials "M. P."

almost but not quite effaced by buffing. Undoubtedly it was the same bonbon dish.

He gathered up the tissue paper and carefully arranged it in the box as a bed for the silver dish. Then he put the cover on, and nailed it down.

"Ain't you going to let Mr. Potash see it?" Miss Cohen asked. "He ain't never seen it before, neither, has he?"

Morris frowned.

"I think he has," he replied. "Anyhow, I'm going to send it right uptown by messenger boy."

"Do you think they'll exchange it?" Miss Cohen inquired.

"Oh, I guess it will be put back in stock all right," said Morris, turning away.

The next morning, when Morris entered the store, Abe was busy figuring on the back of a torn envelope.

"h.e.l.lo, Mawruss!" he cried, looking up. "Ain't it beautiful weather?"

Morris agreed that it was.

"That Mr. Bramson," Abe went on, "that's one fine gentleman, Mawruss. He ain't what you'd call a close buyer, neither, Mawruss."

"No?" Morris commented.

"The way I figure it," Abe continued, "reckoning on what we lost by Hyman Maimin, if he settles for thirty cents, and what we make out of Mr. Bramson's first order, we come out even to the dollar!"

"So?" Morris murmured.

"All excepting that wedding present, Mawruss," Abe. "By the way, Mawruss, ain't that wedding present come back yet?"

"Why, sure," said Morris. "It come back yesterday, when you were out."

"Why ain't you showed it to me? Ain't I got no right to see it, Mawruss?"

"Of course you got a right to see it," Morris a.s.sented, "but I thought I'd get it right up town to Minnie and have it exchanged."

"And did she exchange it?" Abe asked.

"Well, it's like this," Morris explained. "Minnie liked it so well that she decided on keeping it, so I'll give the firm my personal check for twenty-five dollars."

Abe puffed hard on his cigar.

"You're a purty generous feller, Mawruss," he commented, "to give Minnie a present like that--for nothing at all, ain't it?"