Part 53 (2/2)
”Experts from everywhere,” Borrochson replied. ”I must of got ten fellers here from every big safe house in town. I can show you the bills already.”
Wolfson waved his hand.
”I don't want to see 'em,” he said. ”But on the front of the safe I see it, J. Daiches, maker, Grand Street, New York. Did you have him to look at it?”
”Daiches!” Borrochson repeated with a laugh. ”I should say I didn't get him to look at it. Why, that feller Daiches don't know no more about safes than I do about aljibbery what they learn it young fellers by night school. He come from Minsk ten years ago and made it a little money as an operator on s.h.i.+rts. So he buys out a feller in Grand Street and goes into the safe business since only a year ago.”
”I take a chance on him, anyhow,” Wolfson declared. ”So do me the favour and go to the saloon on the corner and ring him up.”
Borrochson shrugged his shoulders.
”You're up against a b.u.m proposition in Daiches, Wolfson,” he said, ”because that feller don't know nothing about safes.”
”But he's in the safe business, ain't he? And a feller can learn a whole lot about a business inside a year.”
”A horse could pull it a truckload of books for a hundred years, Wolfson,” Borrochson said, ”and when he got through he wouldn't know no more what's inside of them books than when he started; ain't it?”
”'S enough, Borrochson,” Wolfson said, ”if you're afraid to trust me alone in the store here while you go and telephone, why we can lock up the store and I will go with you.”
Accordingly they repaired to the sabbatical entrance of the nearest liquor saloon and rang up Daiches' store in Grand Street. They had no difficulty in speaking to him, for on the lower end of Grand Street business goes forward on Sunday as briskly as on weekdays.
”Mr. Daiches,” Borrochson said, ”this is Philip Borrochson from Third Avenue. Could you come up by my store and look over my safe?”
”I ain't in the market for no safes, Borrochson,” Daiches replied at the other end of the telephone wire.
”Not to buy no safes,” Borrochson corrected. ”There's a feller here what wants you to look at my safe.”
”Tell him for five dollars,” Wolfson whispered in Borrochson's ear.
”He wants to give you five dollars for the job,” Borrochson repeated.
”For five dollars is different,” Daiches answered. ”I will be up in half an hour. Should I bring it tools?”
Borrochson turned to Wolfson.
”He wants to know should he bring it tools,” he said.
”Sure he should bring it tools,” Wolfson cried; ”powder also.”
”Powder!” Borrochson exclaimed. ”What for?”
”Powder what you blow it up with,” Wolfson answered.
”Positively not,” Borrochson declared. ”I wouldn't tell him nothing about powder. Might you wouldn't find nothing in the safe, and when you blew it up already I couldn't sell it to Rubin for a b.u.t.ton.”
He turned to the 'phone again.
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