oo. Max says he is pretty near broke, buying transportation from
Buffalo to New York, Mawruss, so as he can bust up love matches between
Miss Kreitmann and some good-looking retail salesman, Mawruss, what can
dance the waltz A Number One and couldn't pay rent for light
housekeeping on Chrystie Street."

"Well, Abe," Morris agreed, with a sigh of resignation, "if we got to
hire her as a condition that Philip Hahn gives us a couple of good
orders a season, Abe, I'm agreeable."

"Naturally," Abe replied, and carefully selecting a slightly-damaged
cigar from the M to P first and second credit customers' box, he fell to
assorting the sample line against Philip Hahn's coming that afternoon.

His task was hardly begun, however, when the store door opened to admit
Max Fried and his sister-in-law. Abe immediately ceased his
sample-assorting and walked forward to greet them.

"Hello, Max," he said.

Max stopped short, and by the simple process of thrusting out his
waist-line assumed a dignity befitting the ceremony of introduction.

"Mr. Potash," he said severely, "this is Miss Gussie Kreitmann, my
wife's sister, what I talked to you about."

Abe grinned shyly.

"All right," he said, and shook hands with Miss Kreitmann, who returned
his grin with a dazzling smile.

"Mr. Fried tells me you like to come to work by us as a model. Ain't
it?" Abe continued in the accents of the sucking dove. "So, I guess
you'd better go over to Miss Cohen, the bookkeeper, and she'll show you
where to put your hat and coat."

"Oh, I ain't in no hurry," Miss Kreitmann replied. "To-morrow morning
will do."

"Sure, sure," Abe murmured. He was somewhat shocked by Miss Kreitmann's
appearance, for while Max Fried's reservation, "only a little fat," had
given him some warning, he was hardly prepared to employ so pronounced
an Amazon as Miss Kreitmann. True, her features, though large, were
quite regular, and she had fine black eyes and the luxurious hair that
goes with them; but as Abe gazed at the convex lines of her generous
figure he could not help wondering what his partner would say when he
saw her.

As a matter of fact, at that precise moment Morris was taking in the
entire situation from behind a convenient rack of raincoats, and was
mentally designing a new line of samples to be called The P & P System.
He figured that he would launch it with a good, live ad in the Daily
Cloak and Suit Record, to be headed: Let 'Em _All_ Come. We Can Fi