Part 32 (1/2)

”Sure, I know,” Sh.e.l.lak went on; ”but now is the time, Nathan. You couldn't begin too early. Look at Kubelik and Kreisler and all them fellers. When they was eating from a bottle already the old man give 'em a fiddle to play with, and to-day where are they? In one concert tower alone, Nathan, them fellers makes from fifty to a hundred thousand dollars.”

He paused so that Nathan might better apprehend the alluring prospect.

”And I'll let you have it for a hundred and fifty dollars, Nathan,” he concluded. ”Ten dollars down and two dollars a week till paid. No interest nor nothing.”

At this juncture Abe burst into the cutting room.

”_Nu_, Sh.e.l.lak!” he roared. ”What are you trying to do? Skin a poor feller like Nathan, which he got a wife and a child to support?”

”What d'ye mean, skin him?” Aaron retorted. ”I ain't no crook, Mr.

Potash.”

”That's all right, Sh.e.l.lak,” Abe went on. ”I heard every word you are saying. Come inside; I want to talk to you.”

Aaron's face blanched and he trembled visibly.

”But, Mr. Potash----” he began.

”Never mind!” Abe bellowed; ”take that fiddle and all that _machshovos_ you got there and come in here.”

Abe led the way to the front of the showroom, followed by the crestfallen Sh.e.l.lak, who deposited fiddle, bow, and case on a sample table.

”Say, lookyhere, Sh.e.l.lak,” Abe said in kindly tones, ”what the devil are you trying to sell a _Schnorrer_ like that a good fiddle? Why don't you give me a show?”

The blood surged suddenly to Aaron's face.

”You!” he stammered. ”Why, Mr. Potash, I never knew you was interested in violins.”

”Sure; why not?” Abe replied. ”Let me have a look at it.”

First he squinted into the right ”eff” hole and he grunted in approval as he spied the label, which read as follows:

NICOLAUS AMATI CREMONENSIS Faciebat Anno 1670

”Do you know anything about them old violins?” Aaron asked anxiously.

Abe smiled in a superior way.

”Not a whole lot, Aaron,” he said, but by the time he had finished his examination Aaron became convinced that his employer was indeed one of the _cognoscenti_. First Abe turned the violin upside down and scrutinized the scroll, neck, belly, and back. Then he blew into the ”eff” holes; and wetting his finger he rubbed the varnish. For five minutes he pursued the tactics of Mozart Rabiner and even added one or two fancy touches on his own account, until at length he laid down the instrument with a profound sigh.

”Always the same thing, Sh.e.l.lak,” he said; ”people says it is a genu-ine and it ain't.”

Aaron took up his violin and looked at it through new eyes.

”Why ain't it genu-ine?” he asked.

”I should tell you why it ain't!” Abe exclaimed. ”If you would know what I know about them things, Sh.e.l.lak, you wouldn't ask me such a question at all. Do you doubt my word?”

”Why should I doubt your word, Mr. Potash?” Aaron said. ”In the inside is the paper and that's all I know about it. So, if you would give me a hundred and fifty dollars, Mr. Potash, you could keep the fiddle, bow, case _und fertig_.”