"You are very kind, Mr. Morgan, but I wish you had some work for me
to do, so that I could pay you."

"That may come after awhile. It might not be safe to delay your
breakfast till you could pay for it. Remember, you have done me a
great service, which fifty breakfasts couldn't pay for."

"Don't think of that, Mr. Morgan," said Joe modestly. "Anybody would
do what I did."

"I am not sure whether everybody would have the courage. But you
must leave me to show my appreciation of your services in my own way."

They took breakfast in the hotel and walked out.

Though it was early, the town was already astir. People got up early
in those days. Building was going on here and there. Draymen were
piloting heavy loads through the streets--rough enough in general
appearance, but drawn from very unlikely social grades.

"By Jove!" said Morgan, in surprise, his glance resting on a young
man of twenty-five, who was in command of a dray. "Do you hear that
drayman?"

"Is he a foreigner?" asked Joe. "I don't understand what he is
saying."

"He is talking to his horse in Greek, quoting from Homer. Look here,
my friend!" he said, hailing the drayman.