"Oh, sure, that will be all right! Let's go over to the Palace cafeteria; that's a nice place and they got tables for ladies." He escorted her into the lunchroom, and took off his hat when he sat down. The numerous unaccompanied men in the place wore their hats. "Let's have some of that ox-tail braise," he suggested. "It's nice here. It's made out of the tail of an ox." "Maybe," she said. "We have it in our house on Mondays, ox-tail soup--my mother makes it out of the neck of a chicken!" They laughed. "Two ox-tail braises," ordered Paul. "Listen," he said, after they had exchanged introductions, "An uncle of mine died, and left me a big fortune!" "You always have a new one, Mr. Manley," she said with expectant smile. "Well, go ahead and spring it." "Spring what?" "The joke! Or am I supposed to ask something? Who is your uncle, or what did he die of, or something like that? I'm awful slow, Mr. Manley." "This ain't a joke. Well, it is a kind of a joke, too. Read over this letter, and then I'll tell you about it." She read the letter, and then he told her about it. "So now you see what I'm up against. Where in heck am I to pull down five or six thousand per year?" "Oh, you could do it if you put your mind down to it. What do you work at?" "Well, just now I am not working. To tell you the truth, I got canned yesterday. I was working over in Hepp's Bargain Basement, and the boss got me sore, and I got right up and told him where he got off. You know I got a hot temper." "What were you getting?" "Seventeen dollars." "That's not much for a fellow like you. Don't you know any trade?" "Nothing better than selling shoes." [Illustration] He spoke in a low tone of voice, glancing guardedly about him to see that he was not overheard. Mingled with his humiliation, he felt a certain rare pleasure in telling this girl the truth; but he was quite content to enjoy this pleasure at her expense only, and would probably have been very unhappy if it had been broadcasted that Paul Manley had been fired from a job which paid seventeen dollars a week. "Oh, I can get another job easily enough," he said. "I've had so many jobs that I know about what to say. It's always easier to get a job than to hold it, is my experience." She stared at him in reflection. "Do you know what I would do, if I were you?" "That's just what I'm asking." "Then listen here. You're going to get as much money as you're earning a year and a half from now, isn't that so? Very well. Now what are you going to earn it at? The thing you know best is selling shoes. But if you go into a shoe store and ask for a job, they're going to ask where you worked last, and then it will come out that you were fired. You will start off with a black eye. The best thing you can do is to go right back to Hepp's, and ask for your job back." "I should say not! Me ask that old crab for a job?"