“Yes, sir, you surely can drive. But that ain’ scarcely fit work for a gen’leman like you is, Mas’ Wayne.” “I reckon what you do doesn’t matter much, June,” replied Wayne. “I reckon you can be a gentleman and drive a carriage, too. Anyway, I’d rather be earning some money. Just being a gentleman doesn’t get you anything as far as I can see.” June shook his head at that but didn’t dispute it. He had something on his mind, and as soon as they were seated at the lunch-counter he broached it. “We got to fin’ a place to live, ain’ we, Mas’ Wayne?” he began. Wayne agreed, and June went on. “Yes, sir. Then let me tell you.” What he told amounted to this. His search for the illusive two-bit piece had taken him farther afield than usual and he had plodded to the outskirts of the town where there was a stamping works and a dyehouse and a few other small factories. His journey had brought him no recompense in money but he had discovered their future domicile. It was, he explained, an old street car which had at some time been pulled out into a meadow beyond the factories. “I reckon it was a horse car, like they used to have in Sleepersville, Mas’ Wayne, before the trolleys done come. Mos’ of the windows is knocked out, but we could easy board ’em up. An’ one of the doors don’ shut tight. But it’s got a long seat on both its sides an’ we could sleep fine on them seats. An’ there’s a little old stove at one end that someone done left there, an’ a stovepipe astickin’ out through the roof. I ask a man at the tin factory an’ he say no one ain’ live in it for a long time. An’ there’s a branch close by it, too; mighty nice tastin’ water, Mas’ Wayne; an’ some trees an’ no one to ask you no questions, an’ everythin’!” “That sounds great, June,” said Wayne eagerly. “How far is it?” “Must be a good two miles, I reckon. You go down this away and you bear over yonder-like an’ you follow the railroad right straight till you come to it.” “It must be near where we got put off the train the other night,” said Wayne. “No, sir, ’tain’, it’s in the other direction; other side of town.” “Oh, that’s right. Well, now look here, June. We’ve got thirty cents left and that’s enough to keep us going until tomorrow, and I’m pretty sure to get that job in the morning. Why don’t we go out there now and have a look at the place?” “Yes, sir, that’s what I was thinkin’. We could find some boards, maybe, an’ fix up them windows, an’ get some wood for a fire----” “We’d better take that blanket out, though, in case we decided to stay there, June. There wouldn’t be any use coming back to town, would there?” June looked dubious. “How about some supper?” he asked. “I forgot that. But, look here, if there’s a stove there----” “Yes, sir! Get us some coffee an’ bread----” “And cook our own supper!” concluded Wayne triumphantly.