n gleams of sunlight, was rising above the white granite and marble
slabs and shafts. Ahead of him and on the right, a mile away, could be
seen the mist-draped steeples of churches, the high roof and cupola of
the county court-house. He heard the distant rumble of a coming
street-car and quickened his step to reach it at the terminus of the
line near by before it started back to the Square. The car was a toylike
affair, drawn by a single horse and in charge of a negro who was both
conductor and driver.

"Got a ride out er you dis time, boss," the negro said, with a smile, as
John came up. "Met some o' yo' hands goin' in. Want any mo' help ter
tote mortar en' bricks? 'Kase if you do, I'll th'o' up dis job. De
headman said maybe I was stealin' nickels 'kase de traffic is so low dis
spring, en' I didn't turn in much. If you got any room fer--"

"You'll have to see Sam Cavanaugh," John answered, gruffly. "If you
climb a scaffold as slow as you drive a car you wouldn't suit our job."

"Huh! dat ain't me; it's dis ol' poky hoss. I'm des hired to bresh de
flies offen his back."

The negro gave a loud guffaw over his own wit and proceeded to unhitch
the trace-chains and drive the horse around to the opposite end of the
car. John entered and took a seat. He drew from the pocket of his short
coat a blue, white-inked drawing and several pages of figures which
Cavanaugh had asked him to look over. A rather pretentious court-house
was to be built in a Tennessee village. Bids on the work had been
invited from contractors in all directions and John's employer had made
an estimate of his own of the cost of the work and had asked John's
opinion of it. John was deeply submerged in the details of the estimate
when the car suddenly started with a jerk. He swore impatiently, and
looked up and scowled, but the slouching back of the driver was turned
to him and the negro was quite unconscious of the wrath he had stirred.
For the first half-mile John was the only passenger; then a woman and a
child got aboard. The car jerked again and trundled onward. The woman
knew who John was and he had seen her before, for he had worked on a
chimney Cavanaugh had built for her, but she did not speak to him nor he
to her. That he had no acquaintances among the women of the town and few
among the men outside of laborers had never struck John as odd. There
were gaudily dressed women who came from neighboring cities and visited
his mother and Jane Holder no