is juncture they heard the sample-room door open and a heavy
footstep sound on its carpeted floor.

"Wait here," she hissed. "It's a customer, and everybody's out to
lunch. What's your other name, Milton?"

"Milton Zwiebel," he replied.

Hastily she adjusted her pompadour and tripped off to the sample-room.

"Ain't none of them actors around here to-day, Miss Levy?" a bass voice
asked.

"They're all out to lunch," Miss Levy explained.

"Where's Pasinsky?" the visitor asked.

"Mr. Pasinsky's in Boston this week, Mr. Feigenbaum," she replied.

Pasinsky was Rothman's senior drummer and was generally acknowledged a
crackerjack.

"That's too bad," Feigenbaum replied. "Ain't Rothman coming back soon?"

"Not for half an hour," Miss Levy answered.

"Well, I ain't got so long to wait," Feigenbaum commented.

Suddenly Miss Levy brightened up.

"Mr. Zwiebel is in," she announced. "Maybe he would do."

"Mr. Zwiebel?" Feigenbaum repeated. "All right, _Zwiebel oder
Knoblauch_, it don't make no difference to me. I want to look at
some of them misses' reefers."

"Mis-ter Zwiebel," Miss Levy called, and in response Milton entered.

"This is one of our customers, Mr. Zwiebel," she said, "by the name Mr.
Henry Feigenbaum."

"How are you, Mr. Feigenbaum?" Milton said with perfect
self-possession. "What can I do for you to-day?"

He dug out one of Charles Zwiebel's Havana seconds from his
waistcoat-pocket and handed it to Feigenbaum.

"It looks pretty rough," he said, "but you'll find it all O.K., clear
Havana, wrapper, binder, and filler."

"Much obliged," Feigenbaum said. "I want to look at some of them
misses' reefers."

Miss Levy winked one eye with electrical rapidity and gracefully placed
her hand on the proper rack, whereat Milton strode over and seized the
garment.

"Try it on me," Miss Levy said, extending her arm. "It's just my size."

"You couldn't wear no misses' reefer," Feigenbaum said ungallantly.
"You ain't so young no longer."

Milton scowled, but Miss Levy passed it off pleasantly.

"You wouldn't want to pay for all the garments in misses' sizes that
fit me, Mr. Feigenbaum," she retorted as she struggled into the coat.
"My sister bought one just like this up on Thirty-fourth Street, and
maybe they didn't charge her anything, neither. Why, Mr. Feigenbaum,
she had to pay twenty-two fifty for the precisely same garment, and I
could have got her the same thing here for ten dollars, only Mr.
Rot