Part 23 (2/2)

said Levy Rothman, as they sat in the rear room of Wa.s.serbauer's Cafe and restaurant.

”You are mistaken, Mr. Rothman,” Charles Zwiebel replied; ”the boy is only a little wild, y'understand, and if I could get him to settle down and learn a business, Mr. Rothman, he would settle down. After all, Mr.

Rothman, he is only a boy, y'understand.”

”At twenty-one,” Rothman replied, ”a boy ain't a boy no longer, Mr.

Zwiebel. Either he is a man or he is a loafer, y'understand.”

”The boy ain't no loafer, Mr. Rothman. He's got a good heart, Mr.

Rothman, and he is honest like the day. That boy wouldn't dream of taking no money from the cash drawer, Mr. Rothman, without he would tell me all about it afterward. That's the kind of boy he is, Mr.

Rothman; and certainly Mrs. Zwiebel she thinks a whole lot of him, too.

Not that he doesn't think a whole lot of her, Mr. Rothman. Yes, Mr.

Rothman, that boy thinks a whole lot of his mother. If he would stay out all night he always says to her the next morning, 'Mommer, you shouldn't worry about me, because I could always take care of myself,'

and I bet yer that boy could take care of himself, too, Mr. Rothman. I seen that boy sit in a game with such sharks like Moe Rabiner and Marks Pasinsky, and them fellers couldn't do nothing with him. Yes, Mr.

Rothman, that boy is a natural-born pinochle player.”

”Might you think that a recommendation, maybe?” Rothman exclaimed.

”Well, Mr. Rothman, my brother Sol, _selig_, used to say, 'Show me a good pinochle player and I will show you a natural-born salesman.'”

”Yes, Mr. Zwiebel,” Rothman retorted, ”and show me a salesman what is a good pinochle player, Mr. Zwiebel, and I will also show you a feller what fools away his time and sells the firm's samples. No, Mr. Zwiebel, if I would take your boy in my place I certainly wouldn't take him because he is a good pinochle player. Ain't he got no other recommendation, Mr. Zwiebel?”

”Well, certainly, everybody what that boy worked for, Mr. Rothman, couldn't say enough about him,” Mr. Zwiebel said enigmatically; ”but, anyhow, what's the use talking, Mr. Rothman? I got this proposition to make you: Take the boy into your place and learn him the business, and all you would got to pay him is five dollars a week. Myself I will put ten to it, and you could pay him fifteen, and the boy wouldn't got to know nothing about it.”

”I wouldn't give him five dollars a week or five cents, neither,” Mr.

Rothman answered in tones of finality. ”Because I don't need n.o.body in my place at present, and if I would need somebody I would hire it a feller what knows the business. I got lots of experience with new beginners already, Mr. Zwiebel, and I always lost money by 'em.”

Mr. Zwiebel received this ultimatum in so crest-fallen a manner that Rothman's flinty heart was touched.

”Lookyhere, Mr. Zwiebel,” he said, ”I got a boy, too, only, _Gott sei dank_, the young feller ain't a loafer, y'understand. He's now in his third year in law school, and I never had a bit of trouble with that boy. Because I don't want you to feel bad, Mr. Zwiebel, but if I do say it myself, that boy is a good boy, y'understand; none better, Mr.

Zwiebel, I don't care where you would go. That boy comes home, y'understand, every night, y'understand, except the night when he goes to lodge meeting, and he takes down his books and learns it till his mommer's got to say to him: 'Ferdy, _lieben_, you would ruin your eyes.' That boy is only twenty-three, Mr. Zwiebel, and already he is way up in the I.O.M.A. They give that young feller full charge for their annual ball two years already, and----”

”Excuse me, Mr. Rothman,” Zwiebel broke in. ”I got to get back to my business, and so, therefore, I want to make you a final proposition.

Take the boy into your place and I would give you each week fifteen dollars you should pay him for his wages.”

”I wouldn't positively do nothing of the kind,” Rothman cried.

”And”--Mr. Zwiebel said as though he were merely extending his remark instead of voicing an idea that had just occurred to him--”and I will invest in your business two thousand dollars which you would only pay me savings-bank interest.”

Rothman's eyes glittered, but he only laughed by way of reply.

”Ain't that a fair proposition?”

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