stood in
City Hall and talked turkey to the mayor and all the bunch, and said a
good word for the poor people, and twisted the tail of the Consolidated
and lost a good job doing it--and that's more than any alderman would do
for those who elected him."

At a street corner children of the poor were dancing around a
hurdy-gurdy. Farr gave the man at the crank a handful of change and told
him to stay there and keep the kiddies happy. Shrill juvenile voices
promptly proclaimed his praises to all the neighborhood, and mothers and
fathers beamed benedictions on him from windows.

He stopped at another street corner where a dozen youths were
congregated. They were heavy-eyed, leering cubs, their hats were tipped
back, and frowzled fore-tops stuck out over their pimply faces--types of
youths whom modest girls avoid hurriedly by detours.

"Boys, folks are writing to the newspapers complaining that young chaps
are insulting girls on the street corners of Marion. But it must be
those high-toned loafers up-town. You're not up to any of that business
down here, of course."

"None of us would ever as much as say 'shoo' to a chicken," protested
one of the group.

"You're Dave Joyce's boy, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"The fifty men he bosses at the ice-house like him because he's square.
Here's a good motto: 'Square with the boys and nice to the girls.' But
keep off the street corners, fellows, or they'll get you mixed up with
some of that masher gang."

The Joyce boy pulled his hat forward and marshaled the retreat from the
loafing-place.

"Naw, he ain't no candidate, nuther," he informed his associates when
they were out of hearing. "He ain't canvassing for no votes. My old man
says he ain't. He ain't a four-flusher. He's the guy that stood for the
poor folks up at City Hall and doped out the spring-water stuff."

At the side of a street where traffic raged to and from the city's Union
Station Farr came upon two shriveled old ladies who were teetering on
the curbstones, waiting tremulously for an opportunity to cross. They
put down into the roaring street first one apprehensive foot and then
another, like children trying chilly water. The big fellow offered an
arm to each and led them safely across.

"You're a real knight-errant, sir," squeaked one of the two, looking up
into the kindly face.

He laughed, doffed the broad-brimmed hat with a low bow, and strolled on
his way.

"Knight-errant," he muttered, still smili