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 youwant 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.
"Want a pair of shoes," grumbled the customer. "And for heaven's sake, hurry up!"
"Yes, sir," said Paul, springing to a foot-rest, and snapping it into place under the gentleman's foot. "A good, strong walking shoe, I suppose? Something about six dollars?"
"Exactly!" said the customer with surprise.
"We have the very thing will please you, sir," said Paul, putting his customer's unshod foot down with reverence.
"You're not taking my size!"
"I will if you wish, sir, but I should say a 9-D would be about right."
"Itisright," said the customer, who had not recognized Paul.
"This is our style A515, sir. May I try it on? We sell these mostly to customers of your standing. It's a strong shoe, but still rather dressy."
"Feels pretty good," said the customer, standing up. "The left one is a little snug in the toe."
"I'll stretch it a bit, if you wish. Or would you rather try a larger size. I wouldn't advise you to, but it won't be any trouble to try it. That's what we're here for!"
"No, these will do. You might stretch that left one a bit at the toe."
Hepp had stalked menacingly forward, but had halted when he saw that the customer could not be disengaged from Paul without a small scene. He stood by, watching. Paul carried away the offending shoe.
"You know your business, young man," said the customer satisfiedly.
"We do our best to please people," smiled Paul.
"Not all of them do," frowned the customer. "I was in a shoe store yesterday, and had words with the laziest and most impudent young puppy I ever met in my life! But you seem to know how to handle people here. Well, good day to you. You'll see me again!"
He left the shop.
"Mr. Hepp," said Paul, "can I have my job back?"
"You took it!" grinned his employer. "You might as well keep it now!"
During his supper hour he hurried up to the Belvedere, and spoke to Miss Molly Hazeltine through her little window. It was half-past six, and she was not busy.
"Fine!" she said, smiling at him with warm and friendly eyes. "I knew you could do it!"
"I didn't," said Paul. "Gosh, it takes a girl to show a fellow what he can do. If you would only stay my friend, Miss Hazeltine, and keep tipping me off to things I can do, I bet I will have a salary in eighteen months that will make that old crab of a lawyer look sick. We will see if he is going to pay me any seventeen dollars a week!"
"That's the talk," she said. "Show him how much he knows—it is a whole lot better than just telling him."
"You got Sunday off, haven't you?"
"Every Sunday."
"Maybe we could take a little walk. I got an awful lot to discuss with you, Miss Hazeltine. If I could take a walk with you every Sunday, and come around and see you between times——"
"You could come around and take me for a walk next Sunday, Mr. Manley. Or what do you say if you come around to dinner first, and meet my mother? I was telling her about you."
"Next Sunday!"