Sure, I know," Fatkin rejoined. "But the feller takes liberties around
here, Sam. He tells us what we should do and what we shouldn't do. If
it wouldn't be that Pinsky was all the time cracking up Louis Sen I
would of fired him _schon_ long since already. Louis was always too
independent, anyhow, and if we would of got rid of him a year ago, Sam,
he wouldn't have gone as partners together with Hillel Greenberg, and
we wouldn't now be bucking up against a couple of dangerous
competitors."

"That's all right, Max. As I told you before, Aaron Pinsky is a good
customer of ours, and if a good customer butts into your business he is
only taking an interest in you; whereas, if a fellow which only buys
from you goods occasionally, y'understand, butts in, then he's acting
fresh and you could tell him so."

"But Pinsky butts into our business so much, Sam, that if he was the
best customer a concern ever had, Sam, he would be fresh anyhow. The
feller actually tells me yesterday he is going to bring us a new
bookkeeper."

"A new bookkeeper!" Zaretsky exclaimed. "Why, we already got it a new
bookkeeper, Max. I thought we hired it Miss Meyerson what used to be
with Klinger & Klein. She's coming to work here Monday. Ain't it?"

"Sure, she is," Fatkin replied.

"Well, why didn't you tell him so?"

Fatkin shrugged.

"You tell him," he said. "I didn't got the nerve, Sam, because you know
as well as I do, Sam, if I would turn him down and he gets mad, Sam,
the first thing you know we are out a good customer and Greenberg & Sen
would get him sure."

"Well, we got to go about this with a little diploomasher,
y'understand."

"Diploomasher?" Max repeated. "What is that--diploomasher?"

"Diploomasher, that's French what you would say that a feller should
watch out when you are dealing with a grouchy proposition like Aaron
Pinsky."

"French, hey?" Max commented. "Well, I ain't no Frencher, Sam, and
neither is Aaron Pinsky. And, furthermore, Sam, you couldn't be
high-toned with an old-fashioned feller like Aaron Pinsky. Lately I
don't know what come over you at all. You use such big words, like a
lawyer or a doctor."

Sam was working his cigar around his mouth to assist the cerebration of
a particularly cutting rejoinder, when the elevator door opened, and
Pinsky himself alighted.

"Hallo, boys," he said, "ain't this rotten weather we are having?
December is always either one thing or the other, but it is never
both."

"You