CHAPTER X
Linder scratched his tousled brown hair reflectively as he gazed after the retreating form of Transley. His hat was off, and the perspiration stood on his sunburned face—a face which, in point of handsomeness, needed make no apology to Transley.
“Well, by thunder!” said Linder; “by thunder, think of that!”
Linder stood for some time, thinking “of that” as deeply as his somewhat disorganized mental state would permit. For Transley had announced, with his usual directness, that he wanted so many men and teams for a house excavation in the most exclusive part of the city. So far they had been building in the cheaper districts a cheap type of house for those who, having little capital, are the easier deprived of what they have. The shift in operations caused Linder to lift his eyebrows.
Transley laughed boyishly and clapped a palm on his shoulder.
“I may as well make you wise, Linder,” he said. “We’re going to build a house for Mr. and Mrs. Transley.”
“MISSUS?” Linder echoed, incredulously.
“That’s the good word,” Transley confirmed. “Never expected it to happen to me, but it did, all of a sudden. You want to look out; maybe it’s catching.”
Transley was evidently in prime humor. Linder had, indeed, noted this good humor for some time, but had attributed it to the very successful operations in which his employer had been engaged. He pulled himself together enough to offer a somewhat confused congratulation.