Across the street from the factory was a long row of little cottages, very neat, each having a tiny garden in front where nasturtiums grew.  There were fifteen of these cottages; three of them only were vacant.

“That was my idea,” observed Geary, as they approached the row, willing to explain even though he thought Vandover would not comprehend, “and it pays like a nitrate bed.  I was clever enough to see that cottages like these were just what’s wanted by the workmen in the factory that have families.  I made some money when I sold out my block to the boot and shoe people, and I invested it again in these cottages.  They are cheap and serviceable and they meet the demand.”  Vandover nodded his head in assent, looking vaguely about him, now at the cottages, now at the great building across the street.  Geary got the keys to one of the vacant cottages and the two went inside.

“Now here’s what I want you to do,” began Geary, pointing about with his stick.  “You see, when some of these people go out they leave the rooms nasty, and that tells against the house when parties come to look at it.  I want you to go all over it, top and bottom, end to end, and give it a good cleaning, sweep the floor, and wash the paint, you know.  And now these windows, you see how dirty they are; wash those inside and out, but don’t disturb the agents’ signs; you understand?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Now come out here into the kitchen.  Look at these laundry tubs and that sink.  See all that grease!  Clean that all out, and underneath the sink here.  See that rubbish!  Take that out, too.  Now in here—­look at that bathtub and toilet.  You see how nasty they have left them.  You want to make ’em look like new!”

“Yes.”

“Now come downstairs.  You see I give ’em a little floored basement, here; kind of a storeroom and coalroom.  Here’s where most of the dirt and rubbish is.  Just look at it!  See all that pile over there?”

“I see.”

“Take it all out and pile it in the back yard.  I’ll have an ashman come and remove it.  Whew! there is a dead hen under here; sling that out the first thing.”

They went back through the house again, and Geary pointed out the tiny garden to Vandover.  “Straighten that up a bit, pick up those old newspapers and the tin cans.  Make it look neat.  Now you understand just what I want?  You make a good job of it, and when you are through with this house, you begin on the next vacant one farther down the row.  You can get the keys at the same place.  You get to work right away.  I should think you ought to finish this house this afternoon.”

“All right,” answered Vandover.

“I’m going to look around a little.  I’ll drop in again in about an hour and see how you’re getting on.”

With that Geary went away.  It was Saturday afternoon, and as the law office closed at noon that day, Geary very often spent the time until evening looking about his property.  He left Vandover and went slowly down the street, noting each particular house with immense satisfaction, even entering some of them, talking with the womenfolk, all the men being at the factory.