"What do you give?"
"Two dollars a day."
Wages are higher now, but this was before the war.
"Come, what do you say?"
"Well, I might as well," said Martin.
"Then I'll tell you what I would like to have you begin on."
The directions were given, and James Martin set to work. He was in reality an excellent workman, and the only thing which had reduced him to his present low fortune was the intemperate habits which had for years been growing upon him. Mr. Blake, the contractor, himself a master carpenter, understood this, and was willing to engage him, because he knew that his work would be done well as long as he was in a fit condition to work.
Martin kept at work till six o'clock, when all the workmen knocked off work. He alone had no boarding-place to go to.
"Where do you board, Tarbox?" he asked of a fellow-workman.
"In Eighth Street," he answered.