the
flowers or tread the walks. He had brought on a wealthy friend from New
York and a cousin from Chicago, and they, too, had bought acres on the
Boulevard and erected palatial "cottages" where once were the houses of
country people. Local cynics suggested that the sign on the East Harniss
railroad station should be changed to read "Williamsburg." "He owns the
place, body and soul," said they.

As Sim Phinney climbed the hill the magnate, pompous, portly, and
imposing, held up a signaling finger. "Just as if he was hailin' a horse
car," described Simeon afterward.

"Phinney," he said, "come here, I want to speak to you."

The man of many trades obediently approached.

"Good evenin', Mr. Williams," he ventured.

"Phinney," went on the great man briskly, "I want you to give me your
figures on a house moving deal. I have bought a house on the Shore Road,
the one that used to belong to the--er--Smalleys, I believe."

Simeon was surprised. "What, the old Smalley house?" he exclaimed. "You
don't tell me!"

"Yes, it's a fine specimen--so my wife says--of the pure Colonial,
whatever that is, and I intend moving it to the Boulevard. I want your
figures for the job."

The building mover looked puzzled. "To the Boulevard?" he said. "Why, I
didn't know there was a vacant lot on the Boulevard, Mr. Williams."

"There isn't now, but there will be soon. I have got hold of the hundred
feet left from the old Seabury estate."

Mr. Phinney drew a long breath. "Why!" he stammered, "that's where Olive
Edwards--her that was Olive Seabury--lives, ain't it?"

"Yes," was the rather impatient answer. "She has been living there. But
the place was mortgaged up to the handle and--ahem--the mortgage is mine
now."

For an instant Simeon did not reply. He was gazing, not up the Boulevard
in the direction of the "Seabury place" but across the slope of the
hill toward the home of Captain Sol Berry, the depot master. There was a
troubled look on his face.

"Well?" inquired Williams briskly, "when can you give me the figures?
They must be low, mind. No country skin games, you understand."

"Hey?" Phinney came out of his momentary trance. "Yes, yes, Mr.
Williams. They'll be low enough. Times is kind of dull now and I'd
like a movin' job first-rate. I'll give 'em to you to-morrer. But--but
Olive'll have to move, won't she? And where's she goin'?"

"She'll have to move, sure. And the eyesore on that lot now will come
down."

The "eyesore