Glass Montague

Potash & Perlmutter: Their Copartnership Ventures and Adventures


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ain't got no troubles, Leon," Ike Herzog said, "but I got to use a lawyer in my business once in awhile. Just now I'm enlarging my place, and I got contracts to make and new people to hire. I hope you ain't got no law suits nor nothing."

      "Law suits ain't in my line, Mr. Herzog," Leon said. "Once in awhile I change my working people, too. That's why I come here."

      "Sometimes you change 'em for the worse, Leon," Herzog commented, indicating Abe Potash's effective ad with a stubby forefinger. "You certainly made a mistake when you got rid of Louis Grossman. He's turning out some elegant stuff for Potash & Perlmutter."

      Leon nodded gloomily.

      "Well, we all make mistakes, Mr. Herzog," he said, "and that's why we got to come here."

      "That's so," Herzog agreed, as Leon opened the door. "I hope I ain't making no mistake in what I'm going to do."

      "I hope not," Leon said as he passed out. "Good morning."

      Ike Herzog's interview with Henry D. Feldman was short and very much to his satisfaction, for when he emerged from Feldman's sanctum, to find Abe Potash waiting without, he could not forbear a broad smile. Abe nodded perfunctorily and a moment later was closeted with the oracle.

      "Mr. Feldman," he said, "I come to ask you an advice, and as I'm pretty busy this morning, do me the favor and leave out all them caveat emptors."

      "Sure thing," Feldman replied. "Tell me all about it."

      "Well, then, Mr. Feldman," said Abe, "I want to get rid of Louis Grossman."

      Mr. Feldman almost jumped out of his chair.

      "I want to fire Louis Grossman," Abe repeated. "You remember that you drew me up a burglar-proof contract between him and us a few weeks ago, and now I want you to be the burglar and bust it up for me."

      Feldman touched the button on his desk.

      "Bring me the draft of the contract between Potash & Perlmutter and Louis Grossman that I dictated last month," he said to the boy who answered.

      In a few minutes the boy returned with a large envelope. He was instructed never to come back empty-handed when asked to bring anything, and, in this instance the envelope held six sheets of folded legal cap, some of which contained the score of a pinochle game, played after office hours on Saturday afternoon between the managing clerk and the process-server.

      Feldman put the envelope in his pocket and retired to a remote corner of the room. There he examined the contents of the envelope and, knitting his brows into an impressive frown, he took from the well-stocked shelves that lined the walls book after book of digests and reports. Occasionally he made notes on the back of the envelope, and after the space of half an hour he returned to his chair and prepared to deliver himself of a weighty opinion.

      "In the first place," he said, "this man Grossman ain't incompetent in his work, is he?"

      "Incompetent!" Abe exclaimed. "Oh, no, he ain't incompetent. He's competent enough to sue us for five thousand dollars after we fire him, if that's what you mean."

      "Then I take it that you don't want to discharge him for incompetence and risk a law suit," Mr. Feldman went on. "Now, before we go on, how much does his share of your profits amount to each week?"

      "About thirty dollars in the busy season," Abe replied.

      "Then here's your scheme," said Feldman. "You go to Grossman and say: 'Look a-here, Grossman, this business of figuring out profits each week is a troublesome piece of bookkeeping. Suppose we call your share of the profits forty dollars a week and let it go at that.' D'ye suppose Grossman would take it?"

      "Would a cat eat liver?" said Abe.

      "Well, then," Feldman now concluded, "after Grossman accepts the offer, and you pay him the first installment of forty dollars you're substituting a new weekly contract in place of the old yearly one, and you can fire Grossman just as soon as you have a mind to."

      "But suppose he sues me, anyhow?" said Abe.

      "If he does," Feldman replied. "I won't charge you a cent; otherwise it'll be two hundred and fifty dollars."

      He touched the bell in token of dismissal.

      "This fellow, Grossman, is certainly a big money-maker," he said to himself, after Abe had gone, "for me."

      The following Saturday Abe sat in the show-room making up the weekly payroll, and with his own hand he drew a check to the order of Louis Grossman for forty dollars.

      "Mawruss," he said, "do me the favor and go upstairs to Louis Grossman. You know what to say to him."

      "Why should I go, Abe?" Morris said. "You know the whole plan. You saw Feldman."

      "But it don't look well for me," Abe rejoined. "Do me the favor and go yourself."

      Morris shrugged his shoulders and departed, while Abe turned to the pages of the Daily Cloak and Suit Record to bridge over the anxious period of Morris' absence. The first item that struck his eye appeared under the heading, "Alterations and Improvements."

      "The Bon Ton Credit Outfitting Company, Isaac Herzog, Proprietor," it read, "is about to open a manufacturing department, and will, on and after June 1, do all its own manufacturing and alterations in the enlarged store premises, Nos. 5940, 5942 and 5946 Second Avenue."

      Abe laid down the paper with a sigh.

      "There's where we lose another good customer," he said as Morris returned. A wide grin was spread over Morris' face.

      "Well, Mawruss?" Abe asked.

      "Yes, Abe," Morris replied. "Ten hundred and thirty-three, thirty-three you paid for him. And now you must pay him forty dollars a week. I ain't so generous, Abe, believe me. I settled with him for twenty-seven-fifty."

      "Well, Mawruss, it's only for one week," Abe protested.

      "I know," said Morris, "but why should he get the benefit of it?"

      "Did you have much of a time getting him to take it?" Abe asked.

      "It was like this," Morris explained. "I told him what you said about a lump sum in place of profits and asked him to name his price, and the first thing he says was twenty-seven-fifty."

      "And you let him have it for that?" Abe cried. "You're a business man, Mawruss, I must say. I bet yer he would have took twenty-five."

      He tore up the check for forty dollars and drew a new one for twenty-seven-fifty.

      "Here, Mawruss," he said, "take it up to him like a good feller."

      It was precisely noon when Morris delivered the check to Louis Grossman, and it was one o'clock when Louis went out to lunch.

      Three o'clock struck before Abe first noted his absence.

      "Ain't that feller come back from his dinner yet, Mawruss?" he asked.

      "No," Morris replied. "I wonder what can be keeping him. He generally takes half an hour for his dinner."

      At this juncture the telephone bell rang in the rear of the store and Abe answered it.

      "Hello," he said; "yes, this is Potash & Perlmutter. Oh, hello, Leon, what can we do for you?"

      "I want to speak to Louis Grossman. Can you call him to the 'phone?" Leon said.

      "Louis ain't in," Abe said. "Do you want to leave a message for him?"

      "Well," Leon hesitated, "the fact is—we had an appointment with him for two o'clock over here, and he ain't showed up yet."

      "Appointment with Louis!" Abe said. "Why, what should you have an appointment with Louis for, Leon?"

      "Well," Leon stammered, "I—now—got to see him—now—about them Arverne Sacques."

      "Oh!" Abe said. "I understand. Well,