his cap. "An' where will I be drivin' ye, Sir?"

"Huh?"

"Where is it ye would like for to go?"

The two children looked at each other questioningly. Then a grin of
wild delight spread itself over the countenance of the boy and he
fairly exploded with triumphant glee, "Gee! Mag, now's our chance." To
the man he said, eagerly, "Just you take us all 'round the Flats,
mister, so's folks can see. An'--an', mind yer, toot that old horn good
an' loud, so as everybody'll know we're a-comin'." As the automobile
moved away he beamed with proud satisfaction. "Some swells we are--heh?
Skinny an' Chuck an' the gang'll be plumb crazy when they see us. Some
class, I'll tell the world."

"Well, why not?" demanded the cigar-stand philosopher, when Tom
described that triumphant drive of Sam Whaley's children through the
Flats. "Them kids was only doin' what we're all a-tryin' to do in one
way or another."

The lawyer, who had stopped for a light, laughed. "I heard the
Interpreter say once that 'to live on some sort of an elevation was to
most people one of the prime necessities of life.'"

"Sure," agreed the philosopher, reaching for another box for the
real-estate agent, "I'll bet old Adam Ward himself is just as human as
the rest of us if you could only catch him at it."

For some time after her car, with Bobby and Maggie, had disappeared in