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.
“What is it, sir?” said the young man courteously.
“Didn’t I hear you quoting Greek just now?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How happens it that a classical scholar like you finds himself in such a position?”
The young man smiled.