hey were in
a condition of partial hypnotism, which became complete after Pasinsky
had concluded a ten-minutes' discourse on cloak and suit affairs. He
spoke with a fluency and emphasis that left Abe and Morris literally
gasping like landed fish, although, to be sure, the manner of his
discourse far outshone the matter.

But his auditors were much too dazed to be critical. They were cognizant
of only one circumstance: If this huge personage with his wonderful
magnetism and address couldn't sell goods, nobody could.

Pasinsky rose to his feet. He was six feet in height, and weighed over
two hundred pounds.

"Well, gentlemen," he said, towering over his proposed employers, "think
it over and see if you want me. I'll be back at noon."

"Hold on a minute," Abe cried. "You ain't told us nothing about who
you worked for last. What were all them references you was telling
us about?"

Pasinsky regarded Abe with a smile of amusement.

"I'll tell you, Mr. Potash, it's like this," he explained. "Of course
you want to know who I worked for and all about it."

Abe nodded.

"But the way I feel about it," Marks Pasinsky went on, "is that if you
advance my expenses for two weeks, understand me, and I go out with your
sample line, understand me, if you don't owe me a thousand dollars
commissions at the end of that time, then I don't want to work for you
at all."

Morris' jaw dropped and he wiped beads of perspiration from his
forehead.

"But who did you sell goods for?" Abe insisted.

Marks Pasinsky bent down and placed his hand on Abe's shoulder.

"B. Gans," he whispered.

"Let me in on this, too, Abe," Morris exclaimed.

"He says he worked for B. Gans," Abe replied.

"That's an A Number One concern, Abe," Morris said.

"A _A_ Number One," Pasinsky corrected. "B. Gans ain't got a garment in
his entire line that retails for less than a hundred dollars."

"Well, we ain't so tony as all that," Morris commented. "We got it one
or two garments, Mr. Pasinsky--just one or two, y'understand--which
retails for ninety-nine dollars and ninety-eight cents, y'understand.
So, naturally, you couldn't expect to sell the same class of trade for
us as you sold it for B. Gans."

"Naturally," Pasinsky agreed loftily, "but when a salesman is a
salesman, Mr. Perlmutter, he ain't content to sell a line of goods which
sells themselves, so to speak, like B. Gans' line. He wants to handle
such a line like you got it, Mr. Perlmutter, whic