"Supposing he is an old crab, what do you care? All you want is to work up to a good salary, isn't it? And you are not going to stay there for good. If you stayed there for a year and a half, and worked up to a good salary, then he would be sorry to lose you, and you could get right up and tell him to keep his old job!" "Do you really think he would be sorry to lose me?" asked Paul doubtingly. "Why, certainly! And that would be some satisfaction, wouldn't it?" "Well, I guess he will not give me the job back. He didn't know how to appreciate a man, Hepp didn't!" "You are worrying too much about Mr. Hepp, and what he thinks. Will you go around and ask him for the job back?" "I would not do it for anybody else in the world, but I will," he said, bowing his high spirit. "Since you ask me to, Miss Hazeltine! I will give Hepp one more chance!" V He found Hepp in his Lenox Avenue store; Hepp had five of these basement establishments, devoted to selling samples and jobs at cut prices. "Well?" snapped Hepp, contracting his flaxen eyebrows. "Mr. Hepp," mumbled Paul, "I find I made a mistake." "About time you found that out--seeing that you've been making nothing but mistakes ever since I took you on. Well, what do you want me to do about it?" "I'd like my job back, Mr. Hepp. I've been thinking it over, and I see where I was wrong, and I see the right thing to do is to come back and tell you. If you take me on again, Mr. Hepp, you'll never get a chance to fire me again!" Hepp grunted, with a twinkle of malice in his eyes. "I don't know what you want to work for a slave-driver like me for." "You're not a slave-driver, Mr. Hepp. You always treated me pretty white!" "Excepting for the salary. Seeing that I am a darned old tight-wad and that you know all about the shoe business already, I don't see what you want to come in here for. I'm nothing but an old fool!" "I take it all back, Mr. Hepp." "Very well, Manley," said Hepp, nodding and walking away. "Do I get my job back, Mr. Hepp?" "No!" cried Hepp, who was not at all forgiving. Paul lingered by the door for another word. He had made up his mind to have this job. He felt that he must have it. And with matters so, with the scales tilted against him, he looked at the stairs and saw descending the gray-haired gentleman whom he had dismissed so cavalierly from the One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street store the day before. By a cruel stroke of fortune, the customer was still seeking the shoes which Paul had denied him, and now he had come here to ruin Paul's slim chance. He would recognize Paul, complain to Hepp, and Paul would be finished. Paul scowled at him as he entered. The customer looked at him. With sudden recklessness Paul dismissed his scowl, put on an urbane smile, and stepped forward. "Good afternoon, sir!" he said, chafing his hands together. [Illustration] "Want a pair of shoes," grumbled the customer. "And for heaven's sake, hurry up!"