pile it in the back yard. I'll have an ashman come
and remove it. Whew! there is a dead hen under here; sling that out the
first thing."

They went back through the house again, and Geary pointed out the tiny
garden to Vandover. "Straighten that up a bit, pick up those old
newspapers and the tin cans. Make it look neat. Now you understand just
what I want? You make a good job of it, and when you are through with
this house, you begin on the next vacant one farther down the row. You
can get the keys at the same place. You get to work right away. I should
think you ought to finish this house this afternoon."

"All right," answered Vandover.

"I'm going to look around a little. I'll drop in again in about an hour
and see how you're getting on."

With that Geary went away. It was Saturday afternoon, and as the law
office closed at noon that day, Geary very often spent the time until
evening looking about his property. He left Vandover and went slowly
down the street, noting each particular house with immense satisfaction,
even entering some of them, talking with the womenfolk, all the men
being at the factory.

Vandover took off his coat, his old and greasy cutaway, and began work.
He drew a pail of water from the garden faucet in a neighbour's yard,
and commenced washing the windows. First he washed the panes from the
inside, very careful not to disturb Adams & Brunt's signs, and then
cleaned the outside, sitting upon the window ledge, his body half in and
half out of the house.

Geary enjoyed himself immensely. The news of the landlord's visit had
spread from cottage to cottage, awakening a mild excitement throughout
the length of the row. The women showed themselves on the steps or on
the sidewalks, very slatternly, without corsets, their hair coming down,
dressed in faded calico wrappers just as they had come from the laundry
tubs or the cook-stove. They bethought them of their various grievances,
a leak here, a broken door-bell there, a certain bad smell that was
supposed to have some connection with a rash upon the children's faces.
They waited for Geary's appearance by ones and twos, timid, very
respectful, but querulous for all that, filling the air with their
lamentations.

Vandover had finished with the windows. Now he was cleaning out the sink
and the laundry tubs. They smelt very badly and were all foul with a
greasy mixture of old lard, soap, soot, and dust; a little mould was
even beginning to form a