n automobile had had its effect. Eager faces appeared
at windows and doors. Children frankly curious and as frankly neglected
climbed over each other, hanging on the ragged fences. Two mongrel dogs
strained at their chains, yelping furiously. Genevieve crossed to
the little square building bearing a gilt "office" sign. There was no
response to her imperative knock, but a middle-aged man appeared on the
porch of the adjoining shack and observed her curiously.

"Wanta rent?" he called jeeringly.

"Are you in charge here?" Genevieve inquired.

"Sorter," he temporized. "Watcha want?"

"I want some one who knows something about it to go around Kentwood with
us."

"What for?" he snarled. "I got my orders."

"From whom?" countered Genevieve.

"None of your business, as I can see." He eyed her narrowly. "But my
orders is to keep every one nosin' around here without no good raison
_out_ of the place--and I don't think _you're_ here to rent, nor your
friend, neither. Besides, there ain't nothin' to rent."

Mrs. Brewster-Smith colored. The insult to her ownership of the premises
stung her to resentment.

"My good man," she said sharply. "I happen to be the proprietor of North
Kent wood."

"Then you'd better beat it." The guardian grinned. "There's a dame been
here with one of them fellers from the town office."

"Where are they now?" questioned Genevieve sharply.

"Went up factory way. But if you _ain't_ one of them lady nosies, you'd
better beat it, I tell you."

Genevieve looked up the street. "Very well, we'll walk on up. This is
North Kentwood, isn't it?"

"Ain't much choice," he shrugged, "but it is. You can smell it a mile.
Say, you lady owner there"--he laughed at his own astuteness in not
being taken in--"you know the monikers, don't you? South Kentwood,
'Stinktown'; North Kentwood, 'Swilltown'?" He grinned, pulled at his
hip pocket and, extracting a flat glass flask, took a prolonged swig and
replaced the bottle with a leer.

The two incongruous visitors were already negotiating the muddy
thoroughfare between the dilapidated dwellings. Presently these gave
place to roughly knocked together structures for two and three families.

The number of children was surprising. Now and again a shrill-voiced
woman, who seemed the prototype of her who lived in the shoe, came to
admonish her young and stare with hostile eyes at the invaders. Refuse,
barrels, cans, pigs, dogs, chickens, were on all sides, with here a