down at Charleston, and the Legislature was in session. So I just took
pictures and raked in the shekels. Here comes my dray. Shove all the
dishes into that chest, Ralph. We've lots to do today."

A truck driven by a negro and drawn by two mules, hitched up tandem
fashion, now backed up to the open door of the car.

"Hello Sam!" called out, Mr. Quigg. "Got my telegram, did you?"

"Yaas, suh. Marse Thompson, he read um."

"Now, give us a hand, Ralph," continued the artist. "We'll put the
tent on first."

The lad, having bestowed the dishes, lent willing aid in loading the
dray, while Mr. Quigg superintended operations.

"I guess you will have to go along with Sam," said he to Ralph. "He'll
want some help at unloading. Then you must stay there and watch the
things until we come with the next load."

So it was that Ralph found himself presently perched high up on the
dray and rattling through the streets, while Sam sat in front, guiding
his team by a single rein, and a deal of vociferation.

They came finally to a vacant corner lot where they began to unload.

"Do you know of a man here called Captain Shard?" asked the boy, at
length remembering the individual he desired to find.