Marlitt's Shoes — Robert W. Chambers / Robert William Chambers

Through the open window the spring sunshine fell on Calvert's broad back. Tennant faced the window, smoking reflectively. "I should like to ask a favor," he said; "may I?" "Certainly you may," replied Calvert; "everybody else asks favors three hundred and sixty-five times a year." Tennant, smoking peacefully, gazed at an open window across the narrow court-yard, where, in the sunshine, a young girl sat sewing. "The favor," he said, "is this: there is a vacancy on the staff, and I wish you'd give Marlitt another chance." "Marlitt " exclaimed Calvert. "Why Marlitt?" "Because," said Tennant, "I understand that I am wearing Marlitt's shoes-and the shoes pinch." "Marlitt's shoes would certainly pinch you if you were wearing them," said Calvert, grimly. "But you are not. Suppose you were? Better wear even Marlitt's shoes than hop about the world barefoot. You are a singularly sensitive young man. I come up-town to offer you Warrington's place, and your reply is a homily on Marlitt's shoes " Calvert's black eyes began to snap and his fat, pink face turned pinker. "Mr. Tennant," he said, "I am useful to those who are useful to me. I am a business man. I know of no man or syndicate of men wealthy enough to conduct a business for the sake of giving employment to the unsuccessful "