“My experience,” says he, and he sounded like he had had lots of it, “is that it hain’t ever satisfactory to let separate contracts. Makes for delay and scamped work. Your masons has to wait on the cellar-digger, and the carpenters has to wait on the masons, and the lathers and plasterers has to wait on the carpenters, and they git to bickerin’ and quarrelin’, and fust you know somebody’s scamped the work some place.... It’s always best, Mr. Witherspoon, to have one man a-supervisin’ of the whole job and responsible for everything. Then you kin look to him.” Mr. Witherspoon nodded. “That sounds very reasonable, Mr. Atkins.... Here are my plans and specifications. I think I shall give you a chance to bid on the job. Want to take them to figure over?” “Yes,” says Catty. He took the papers and we said good-by to Mr. Witherspoon, and out we went. “How in tunket,” says Catty, “do you figger out how much it’s goin’ to cost to build a house?” “Hain’t got no idee,” says I. “Nor me,” says Mr. Atkins. “The name of the feller that drew these plans is printed on ’em,” says Catty. “Seems like he ought to know.” “Where’s he at?” says Mr. Atkins. “Canton,” says Catty. “Five miles east, hain’t it, Wee-wee?” “Yes,” says I. “I’ll walk over with ’em,” says Mr. Atkins, eager-like. You see, he was jest achin’ to get his feet on a sandy road and ramble. “Fine,” says Catty, and he winked at me. “You and us fellers ’ll walk over, and maybe ketch the train back. Start in the mornin’.” So in the morning we started over to Canton to see this man Phillips, the architect. I was wondering what kind of a man he was and how he would act, but that didn’t seem to bother Catty much. When we got there we found him in a little room up-stairs over the express-office, and he looked like he was just fresh from college. He was nice-lookin’ and I liked him right off. “Good morning, gentlemen,” says he. “What can I do for you?” “Be you the archytect?” says Mr. Atkins. “I am,” says Mr. Phillips. “When you make plans for a house kin you figger how much it’s goin’ to cost to build it?” “I can.” “I got some plans you drawed, and I want to git the costs, for diggin’, masonry, carpenter-work, and all—each sep’rate.... I’m a contractor, Mr. Phillips, and I calc’late to have quite some work for a handy archytect. Figger I’ll need a man with idees and brains.” I was so surprised I almost bit myself. I’d never heard Mr. Atkins talk like that. He sounded almost like a business man. Well, sir, we sat down and talked, and pretty soon it seemed like we was well acquainted, and we began telling each other about ourselves. Seemed that Mr. Phillips was new at his job and just out of college and hadn’t any money, and didn’t get much to do. He was interested a lot in Catty and Mr. Atkins. “Pity you settled in Canton,” says Mr. Atkins. “Our town’s bigger and liver and got more business. I look to see it grow.”