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diff --git a/4905-h/4905-h.htm b/4905-h/4905-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aa1f0c4 --- /dev/null +++ b/4905-h/4905-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,20546 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <title> + Galusha the Magnificent, by Joseph C. Lincoln + </title> + <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + +<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Galusha the Magnificent, by Joseph C. Lincoln</p> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Galusha the Magnificent</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Joseph C. Lincoln</div> +<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: June 6, 2006 [eBook #4905]<br /> +[Most recently updated: January 8, 2023]</p> +<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> + <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: + Don Lainson; David Widger</p> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GALUSHA THE MAGNIFICENT ***</div> + + <h1> + GALUSHA THE MAGNIFICENT + </h1> + <h2> + By Joseph C. Lincoln + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <big><b>GALUSHA THE MAGNIFICENT</b></big> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + GALUSHA THE MAGNIFICENT + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Horatio Pulcifer was on his way home. It was half-past five of a + foggy, gray afternoon in early October; it had rained the previous day and + a part of the day before that and it looked extremely likely to rain again + at any moment. The road between Wellmouth Centre, the village in which Mr. + Pulcifer had been spending the afternoon, and East Wellmouth, the + community which he honored with his residence, was wet and sloppy; there + were little puddles in the hollows of the macadam and the ruts and + depressions in the sand on either side were miniature lakes. The groves of + pitch pines and the bare, brown fields and knolls dimly seen through the + fog looked moist and forsaken and dismal. There were no houses in sight; + along the East Wellmouth road there are few dwellings, for no one but a + misanthrope or a hermit would select that particular section as a place in + which to live. Night was coming on and, to accent the loneliness, from + somewhere in the dusky dimness a great foghorn groaned at intervals. + </p> + <p> + It was a sad and deserted outlook, that from the seat of Mr. Pulcifer's + “flivver” as it bounced and squeaked and rattled and splashed its way + along. But Mr. Pulcifer himself was not sad, at least his appearance + certainly was not. Swinging jauntily, if a trifle ponderously, with the + roll of the little car, his clutch upon the steering wheel expressed + serene confidence and his manner self-satisfaction quite as serene. His + plaid cap was tilted carelessly down toward his right ear, the tilt being + balanced by the upward cock of his cigar toward his left ear. The + light-colored topcoat with the soiled collar was open sufficiently at the + throat to show its wearer's chins and a tasty section of tie and cameo + scarf-pin below them. And from the corner of Mr. Pulcifer's mouth opposite + that occupied by the cigar came the words and some of the tune of a song + which had been the hit of a “Follies” show two seasons before. No, there + was nothing dismal or gloomy in Mr. Horatio Pulcifer's appearance as he + piloted his automobile toward home at the close of that October afternoon. + </p> + <p> + And his outward seeming did not belie his feelings. He had spent a + pleasant day. At South Wellmouth, his first port of call, he had + strengthened his political fences by dropping in upon and chatting with + several acquaintances who prided themselves upon being “in the know” + concerning local political opinion and drift. Mr. “Raish” Pulcifer—no + one in Ostable county ever referred to him as Horatio—had already + held the positions of town clerk, selectman, constable and postmaster. + Now, owing to an unfortunate shift in the party vote, the public was, + temporarily, deprived of his services. However, it was rumored that he + might be persuaded to accept the nomination for state representative if it + were offered to him. His acquaintances at South Wellmouth had that day + assured him there was “a good, fair fightin' chance” that it might be. + </p> + <p> + Then, after leaving South Wellmouth, he had dined at the Rogers' House in + Wellmouth Centre, “matching” a friend for the dinners and “sticking” the + said friend for them and for the cigars afterward. Following this he had + joined other friends in a little game in Elmer Rogers' back room and had + emerged from that room three dollars and seventy-two cents ahead. No + wonder he sang as he drove homeward. No wonder he looked quite care free. + And, as a matter of fact, care free he was, that is, as care free as one + is permitted to be in this care-ridden world. Down underneath his bright + exterior there were a few cankers which might have gnawed had he permitted + himself to think of them, but he did not so permit. Mr. Pulcifer's motto + had always been: “Let the other feller do the worryin'.” And, generally + speaking, in a deal with Raish that, sooner or later, was what the other + fellow did. + </p> + <p> + The fog and dusk thickened, Mr. Pulcifer sang, and the flivver wheezed and + rattled and splashed onward. At a particularly dark spot, where the main + road joined a cross country byroad, Raish drew up and climbed out to light + the car lamps, which were of the old-fashioned type requiring a gas tank + and matches. He had lighted one and was bending forward with the match + ready to light the other when a voice at his elbow said: + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, but—but will you kindly tell me where I am?” + </p> + <p> + It was not a loud, aggressive voice; on the contrary, it was hesitating + and almost timid, but when one is supposedly alone at twilight on the East + Wellmouth road any sort of voice sounding unexpectedly just above one's + head is startling. Mr. Pulcifer's match went out, he started violently + erect, bumping his head against the open door of the lamp compartment, and + swung a red and agitated face toward his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “I—beg your pardon,” said the voice. “I'm afraid I startled you. I'm + extremely sorry. Really I am.” + </p> + <p> + “What the h-ll?” observed Raish, enthusiastically. + </p> + <p> + “I'm very sorry, very—yes, indeed,” said the voice once more. Mr. + Pulcifer, rubbing his bumped head and puffing from surprise and the + exertion of stooping, stared wide-eyed at the speaker. + </p> + <p> + The latter was no one he knew, so much was sure, to begin with. The first + impression Raish gained was of an overcoat and a derby hat. Then he caught + the glitter of spectacles beneath the hat brim. Next his attention + centered upon a large and bright yellow suitcase which the stranger was + carrying. That suitcase settled it. Mr. Pulcifer's keen mind had diagnosed + the situation. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said, quickly, “I don't want nothin'—nothin'; d'you get + me?” + </p> + <p> + “But—but—pardon me, I—” + </p> + <p> + “Nothin'. Nothin' at all. I've got all I want.” + </p> + <p> + The stranger seemed to find this statement puzzling. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me,” he faltered, after a moment's hesitation, during which Raish + scratched another match. “I—You see—I fear—I'm sure you + don't understand.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pulcifer bent and lighted the second lamp. Then he straightened once + more and turned toward his questioner. + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</i> understand, young feller,” he said, “but you don't seem to. I + don't want to buy nothin'. I've got all I want. That's plain enough, ain't + it?” + </p> + <p> + “But—but—All you want? Really, I—” + </p> + <p> + “All I want of whatever 'tis you've got in that bag. I never buy nothin' + of peddlers. So you're just wastin' your time hangin' around. Trot along + now, I'm on my way.” + </p> + <p> + He stepped to the side of the car, preparatory to climbing to the driver's + seat, but the person with the suitcase followed him. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me,” faltered that person, “but I'm not—ah—a peddler. + I'm afraid I—that is, I appear to be lost. I merely wish to ask the + way to—ah—to Mr. Hall's residence—Mr. Hall of + Wellmouth.” + </p> + <p> + Raish turned and looked, not at the suitcase this time, but at the face + under the hat brim. It was a mild, distinctly inoffensive face—an + intellectual face, although that is not the term Mr. Pulcifer would have + used in describing it. It was not the face of a peddler, the ordinary kind + of peddler, certainly—and the mild brown eyes, eyes a trifle + nearsighted, behind the round, gold-rimmed spectacles, were not those of a + sharp trader seeking a victim. Also Raish saw that he had made a mistake + in addressing this individual as “young feller.” He was of middle age, and + the hair, worn a little longer than usual, above his ears was sprinkled + with gray. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Hall, of—ah—of Wellmouth,” repeated the stranger, + seemingly embarrassed by the Pulcifer stare. “I—I wish to find his + house. Can you tell me how to find it?” + </p> + <p> + Raish took the cigar, which even the bump against the lamp door had failed + to dislodge, from the corner of his mouth, snapped the ash from its end, + and then asked a question of his own. + </p> + <p> + “Hall?” he repeated. “Hall? Why, he don't live in Wellmouth. East + Wellmouth's where he lives.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me! Are you sure?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure? Course I'm sure. Know him well.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear me! Why, the man at the station told me—” + </p> + <p> + “What station? The Wellmouth depot, do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “No, the—ah—the South Wellmouth station. You see, I got off + the train at South Wellmouth by mistake. It was the first Wellmouth + called, you know, and I—I suppose I caught the name and—ah—rushed + out of the car. I thought—it seemed to be a—a sort of lonely + spot, you know—” + </p> + <p> + “Haw, haw! South Wellmouth depot? It's worse'n lonesome, it's + God-forsaken.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes, it looked so. I should scarcely conceive of the Almighty's + wishing to remain there long.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it's not material. Pardon me. I inquired of the young man in charge + of the—ah—station.” + </p> + <p> + “Nelse Howard? Yes, sure.” + </p> + <p> + “You know him, then?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pulcifer laughed. “Say,” he observed, patronizingly, “there's mighty + few folks in this neighborhood I don't know. You bet that's right!” + </p> + <p> + “The young man—the station man—was very kind and obliging, + very kind indeed. He informed me that there was no direct conveyance from + the South Wellmouth station to Wellmouth—ah—Centre, but he + prevailed upon the driver of the station—ah—vehicle—” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? You mean Lem Lovett's express team?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe the driver's name was Lovett—yes. He prevailed upon him + to take me in his wagon as far as a crossroads where I was to be left. + From there I was to follow another road—ah—on foot, you know—until + I reached a second crossroad which would, he said, bring me directly into + Wellmouth Middle—ah—Centre, I should say. He told me that Mr. + Hall lived there.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he told you wrong. Hall lives up to East Wellmouth. But what I + can't get a-hold of is how you come to fetch up way off here. The Centre's + three mile or more astern of us; I've just come from there.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear me! I must have lost my way. I was quite sure of it. It seemed + to me I had been walking a very long time.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pulcifer laughed. “Haw, haw!” he guffawed, “I should say you had! I + tell you what you done, Mister; you walked right past that crossroad Nelse + told you to turn in at. THAT would have fetched you to the Centre. Instead + of doin' it you kept on as you was goin' and here you be 'way out in the + fag-end of nothin'. The Centre's three mile astern and East Wellmouth's + about two and a ha'f ahead. Haw, haw! that's a good one, ain't it!” + </p> + <p> + His companion's laugh was not enthusiastic. It was as near a groan as a + laugh could well be. He put the yellow suitcase down in the mud and looked + wearily up and down the fog-draped road. There was little of it to be + seen, but that little was not promising. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me!” he exclaimed. “Dear me!” And then added, under his breath: “Oh, + dear!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pulcifer regarded him intently. A new idea was beginning to dawn + beneath the plaid cap. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Mister,” he said, suddenly, “you're in a bad scrape, ain't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon? What? Yes, I am—I fear I am. Is it—is it a + VERY long walk back to Wellmouth?” + </p> + <p> + “To the Centre? Three good long Cape Cod miles.” + </p> + <p> + “And is the-ah—the road good?” + </p> + <p> + “'Bout as you see it most of the way. Macadam ain't so bad, but if you + step off it you're liable to go under for the third time.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me! Dear me!” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me's right, I cal'late. But what do you want to go to the Centre + for? Hall don't live there. He lives on ahead here—at East + Wellmouth.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—that's true, that's true. So you said. But the South Wellmouth + station man—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never mind Nelse Howard. He's a smart Aleck and talks too much, + anyhow. He made a mistake, that's all. Now I tell you, Mister, I'm goin' + to East Wellmouth myself. Course I don't make a business of carryin' + passengers and this trip is goin' to be some out of my way. Gasoline and + ile are pretty expensive these days, too, but—Eh? What say?” + </p> + <p> + The pale face beneath the derby hat for the first time showed a ray of + hope. The eyes behind the spectacles were eager. + </p> + <p> + “I—I didn't say anything, I believe,” was the hurried answer, “but I + should like to say that—that if you COULD find it possible to take + me with you in your car—if you COULD do me so great a favor, I + should be only too happy to pay for the privilege. Pay—ah—almost + anything. I am—I have not been well and I fatigue easily. If you + could—” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pulcifer's hand descended squarely upon the shoulder of the dark + overcoat. + </p> + <p> + “Don't say nothin' more,” he ordered, heartily. “I'm only too glad to do a + feller a favor any time, if it's a possible thing. That's me, that is. I + shouldn't think of chargin' you a cent, but of course this cruise is a + little mite off my track and it's late and—er—well, suppose we + call it three dollars? That's fair, ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, quite, quite. It's very reasonable. Very generous of you. I'm + extremely grateful, really.” + </p> + <p> + This prompt and enthusiastic acceptance of his offer was a bit + disconcerting. Raish was rather sorry that he had not said five. However, + to do him justice, the transaction was more or less what he would have + called “chicken-feed stuff.” Mr. Pulcifer was East Wellmouth's leading + broker in real estate, in cranberry bog property, its leading promoter of + deals of all kinds, its smartest trader. Ordinarily he did not stoop to + the carrying of passengers for profit. But this particular passenger had + been delivered into his hand and gasoline WAS expensive. + </p> + <p> + “Jump right in, Mister,” he said, blithely. “All aboard! Jump right in.” + </p> + <p> + His fare did not jump in, exactly. He climbed in rather slowly and + painfully. Raish, stowing the suitcase between his feet, noticed that his + shoes and trouser legs above them were spattered and daubed with yellow + mud. + </p> + <p> + “You HAVE had some rough travelin', ain't you, Mister?” he observed. “Oh—er—what + did you say your name was? Mine's Pulcifer.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes—yes. Ah—how do you do, Mr. Pulcifer? My name is + Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + “Bangs, eh? That's a good Cape name, or used to be. You any relation to + Sylvanus Bangs, over to Harniss?” + </p> + <p> + “No—no, not that I am aware. Ours is a Boston branch of the family.” + </p> + <p> + “Boston, eh? Um-hm. I see. Yes, yes. What's your first name?” + </p> + <p> + “Mine? Oh, my name is Galusha.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Ga—WHAT did you say 'twas?” + </p> + <p> + “Galusha. It IS an odd name.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I'd say 'twas. Don't cal'late as I ever heard tell of it afore. Ga—Ga—” + </p> + <p> + “Galusha.” + </p> + <p> + “Galushy, eh? I see. Strange what names folks 'll christen onto children, + ain't it? There's lots of queer things in the world; did you ever stop to + think about that, Mister—Mister Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs, who was leaning back against the upholstered seat as if he + found the position decidedly comforting, smiled faintly. + </p> + <p> + “We have all thought that, I'm sure,” he said. “'There are more things in + heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pulcifer was not easily startled, but his jerk of surprise sent the + car perilously near the side of the road. + </p> + <p> + “How in the devil did you know my name?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Your name? Why, you told me. It is Pulcifer, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no. My first name—Horatio. I never told you that, I'll swear.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs smiled and the smile made his face look younger. + </p> + <p> + “Now that's rather odd, isn't it?” he observed. “Quite a coincidence.” + </p> + <p> + “A what?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing, nothing. I didn't know your name, Mr.—ah—Pulcifer. + My using it was an accident. I was quoting—ah—from Hamlet, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pulcifer did not know, but he thought it not worth while advertising + the fact. Plainly this passenger of his was a queer bird, as queer within + as in dress and appearance. He turned his head slightly and looked him + over. It was growing too dark to see plainly, but one or two points were + obvious. For instance, the yellow leather suitcase was brand new and the + overcoat was old. It was shiny about the cuffs. The derby hat—and in + October, in Wellmouth, derby hats are seldom worn—the derby hat was + new and of a peculiar shade of brown; it was a little too small for its + wearer's head and, even as Raish looked, a gust of wind lifted it and + would have sent it whirling from the car had not Mr. Bangs saved it by a + sudden grab. Raish chuckled. + </p> + <p> + “Come pretty nigh losin' somethin' overboard that time, didn't you?” he + observed. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs pulled the brown derby as far down upon his head as it would go. + </p> + <p> + “I—I'm afraid I made a mistake in buying this hat,” he confided. “I + told the man I didn't think it fitted me as it should, but he said that + was because I wasn't used to it. I doubt if I ever become used to it. And + it really doesn't fit any better to-day than it did yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “New one, ain't it?” inquired Raish. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, quite new. My other blew out of the car window. I bought this one at + a small shop near the station in Boston. I'm afraid it wasn't a very good + shop, but I was in a great hurry.” + </p> + <p> + “Where was you comin' from when your other one blew away?” + </p> + <p> + “From the mountains.” + </p> + <p> + “White Mountains?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + Raish said that he wanted to know and waited for his passenger to say + something more. This the passenger did not do. Mr. Pulcifer whistled a bar + or two of his “Follies” song and then asked another question. + </p> + <p> + “You any relation to Josh?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Oh, that's all right. I just asked you if you was a relation of + Josh's—of Hall's, I mean, the folks you're goin' to see.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, no. We are not related. Merely friends.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. I thought there wan't any Bangses in that family. His wife was a + Cahoon, wan't she?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I BEG your pardon?” + </p> + <p> + “I asked you if she wan't a Cahoon; Cahoon was her name afore she married + Hall, wan't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't know, I'm sure.... Now, really, that's very funny, very.” + </p> + <p> + “What's funny?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you see, I—” Mr. Bangs had an odd little way of pausing in the + middle of a sentence and then, so to speak, catching the train of his + thought with a jerk and hurrying on again. “I understood you to ask if she + was a—a cocoon. I could scarcely believe my ears. It WAS funny, + wasn't it?” + </p> + <p> + Raish Pulcifer thought it was and said so between roars. His conviction + that his passenger was a queer bird was strengthening every minute. + </p> + <p> + “What's your line of business, Mr. Bangs?” was his next question. + </p> + <p> + “I am not a business man. I am connected with the Archaeological + Department of the National Institute at Washington.” + </p> + <p> + If he had said he was connected with the interior department of a + Brontosaurus the statements would have conveyed an equal amount of + understanding to the Pulcifer mind. However, it was a fixed principle with + Raish never to admit a lack of knowledge of any subject whatsoever. So he + said: + </p> + <p> + “From Washin'ton, eh? I see. Yes, yes. Cal'latin' to stay here on the Cape + long, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I don't know, I'm sure. I have not been—ah—well of late. + The doctors advise rest and—ah—outdoor air and all that. I + tried several places, but I didn't care for them. The Halls invited me to + visit them and so I—well, I came.” + </p> + <p> + “Never been here to the Cape afore, then?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, you've come to the right place when you came to Wellmouth. I + was born right here in East Wellmouth and I've lived here for fifty-two + year and if anybody should ask me what I thought of the place I'd tell 'em—” + </p> + <p> + He proceeded to tell what he would tell 'em. It was a favorite topic with + him, especially in the summer and with visitors from the city. Usually the + discourse ended with a suggestion that if the listener should ever think + of investing a little money in real estate “that'll be wuth gold dollars + to you—yes, sir, gold dollars—” he, Horatio G. Pulcifer, would + be willing to point out and exhibit just the particular bit of real estate + to invest in. He did not reach the climax this time, however. A gentle + nasal sound at his shoulder caused Raish to turn his head. Mr. Bangs had + fallen asleep. Awakened by a vigorous nudge, he apologized profusely. + </p> + <p> + “Really,” he declared, with much embarrassment, “I—I am quite + ashamed of myself. I—you see—I have, as I say, been somewhat + unwell of late, and the fatigue of walking—I DO hope you will excuse + me. I was very much interested in what you were saying. What—ah—what + was it?” + </p> + <p> + Before Raish could have repeated his real estate sermon, even had he so + desired, the car came to the top of a hill, emerged from the clumps of + pines shutting in the road on both sides, and began to descend a long + slope. And through the fog and blackness at the foot of the slope there + shone dimly first one and then several lights. Mr. Bangs leaned forward + and peered around the edge of the wet windshield. + </p> + <p> + “Is that it?” he asked, in much the same tone that Mrs. Noah may have used + when her husband announced that the lookout had sighted Ararat. + </p> + <p> + Raish Pulcifer nodded. “Yes, sir,” he declared, proudly. “Yes, sir, that's + East Wellmouth.” + </p> + <p> + The fog in the valley was thicker even than that upon the hill and East + Wellmouth was almost invisible. Mr. Bangs made out a few houses, a + crossroads, a small store, and that was about all. From off to the right a + tremendous bellow sounded. The fog seemed to quiver with it. + </p> + <p> + “WHAT is that?” asked Mr. Bangs, nervously. “I've heard it ever since I + left the train, I believe. Some sort of a—ah—steam whistle, + isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Foghorn over to the light,” replied Raish, briskly. “Well, sir, here you + be.” + </p> + <p> + The car rolled up to the side of the road and stopped. + </p> + <p> + “Here you be, Mr. Bangs,” repeated Mr. Pulcifer. “Here's where Hall lives, + right here.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs seemed somewhat astonished. “Right here?” he asked. “Dear me, is + it possible!” + </p> + <p> + “Possible as anything ever you knew in your life. Why not? Ain't sorry, + are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no—no, indeed, I'm very glad. I was—ah—a trifle + surprised, that is all. You said—I think you spoke of Mr. Hall's + cottage as being—ah—off the track and so I—well I + scarcely expected to reach his house so easily.” + </p> + <p> + Raish had forgotten his “off the track” statement, which was purely a + commercial fiction invented on the spur of the moment to justify the high + price he was charging for transportation. He was somewhat taken aback, but + before he could think of a good excuse his companion spoke again. He was + leaning forward, peering out at the house before which the car had + stopped. It was a small, gray-shingled dwelling, sitting back from the + road in the shadow of two ancient “silver-leafs,” and Mr. Bangs seemed to + find its appearance surprising. + </p> + <p> + “Are you—are you SURE this is the Hall cottage?” he stammered. + </p> + <p> + “Am I sure? Me? Well, I ought to be. I've lived in East Wellmouth all my + life and Josh Hall's lived in this house ever since I can remember.” + </p> + <p> + This should have been reassuring, but it did not appear to be. Mr. + Pulcifer's passenger drew a startled breath. + </p> + <p> + “What—WHAT is his Christian name?” he asked. “The—the Mr. Hall + who lives here?” + </p> + <p> + “His name is—Why? What's the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid there has been a mistake. Is this Mr. Hall an entomologist?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? He ain't nothin' in particular. Don't go to meetin' much, Josh don't. + His wife's a Spiritu'list.” + </p> + <p> + “But—but, I mean—Dear me, dear me!” Mr. Bangs was fumbling in + the inside pocket of his coat. “If I—Would you mind holding this for + me?” he begged. “I have a photograph here and—Oh, thank you very + much.” + </p> + <p> + He handed Pulcifer a small pocket electric lamp. Raish held it and into + its inch of light Mr. Bangs thrust a handful of cards and papers taken + from a big and worn pocketbook. One of the handful was a postcard with a + photograph upon its back. It was a photograph of a pretty, old-fashioned + colonial house with a wide porch covered with climbing roses. Beneath was + written: “This is our cottage. Don't you think it attractive?” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Hall sent me that—ah—last June—I think it was in + June,” explained Mr. Bangs, hurriedly. “But you SEE,” he added, waving an + agitated hand toward the gray-shingled dwelling beneath the silver-leafs, + “that CAN'T be the house, not if”—with a wave of the photograph in + the other hand—“if THIS is.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pulcifer took the postcard and stared at it. His brows drew together + in a frown. + </p> + <p> + “Say,” he said, turning toward his passenger, “is this the house you've + been tryin' to find? This is a picture of the old Parker place over to + Wellmouth Centre. I thought you told me you wanted to be took to Joshua + Hall's house in East Wellmouth.” + </p> + <p> + “Joshua? Oh, no, I'm sure I never could have said Joshua. That isn't his + name.” + </p> + <p> + “Then when I said 'Josh Hall' why didn't you say so?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, good gracious! Did you say 'Josh?' Oh, dear, that explains it; I + thought you said 'George.' My friend's name is George Hall. He is an + entomologist at the New York Museum of Natural History. I—” + </p> + <p> + “Say,” broke in Raish, again, “is he a tall, bald-headed man with + whiskers; red whiskers?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes, he is.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Goes gallopin' round the fields chasin' bugs and grasshoppers like + a young one?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, entomology is his profession, so naturally he—” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! So THAT'S the feller! Tut, tut, tut! Well, if you'd only said you + meant him 'twould have been all right. I forgot there was a Hall livin' in + the Parker place. If you'd said you meant 'Old Bughouse' I'd have + understood.” + </p> + <p> + “Bughouse?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's what the Wellmouth post-office gang call him. Kind of a joke + 'tis. And say, this is kind of a joke, too, my luggin' you 'way over here, + ain't it, eh? Haw, haw!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs' attempt at a laugh was feeble. + </p> + <p> + “But what shall I do now?” he asked, anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's the question, ain't it? Hum... hum... let's see. Sorry I + can't take you back to the Centre myself. Any other night I'd be glad to, + but there's a beans and brown-bread supper and sociable up to the meetin' + house this evenin' and I promised the old woman—Mrs. Pulcifer, I + mean—that I'd be on hand. I'm a little late as 'tis. Hum... let's + see... Why, I tell you. See that store over on the corner there? That's + Erastus Beebe's store and Ras is a good friend of mine. He's got an extry + horse and team and he lets 'em out sometimes. You step into the store and + ask Ras to hitch up and drive you back to the Centre. Tell him I sent you. + Say you're a friend of Raish Pulcifer's and that I said treat you right. + Don't forget: 'Raish says treat me right.' You say that to Ras and you'll + be TREATED right. Yes, SIR! If Ras ain't in the store he'll be in his + house right back of it. Might as well get out here, Mr. Bangs, because + there's a hill just ahead and I kind of like to get a runnin' start for + it. Shall I help you with the suitcase? No, well, all right... Sorry you + made the mistake, but we're all liable to make 'em some time or another. + Eh? haw, haw!” + </p> + <p> + Poor Mr. Bangs clambered from the automobile almost as wearily and stiffly + as he had climbed into it. The engine of the Pulcifer car had not stopped + running so Raish was not obliged to get out and crank. He took a fresh + grip on the steering wheel and looked down upon his late passenger. + </p> + <p> + “Well, good-night, Mr. Bangs,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night—ah—good-night, Mr. Pulcifer. I'm very much obliged + to you, I am indeed. I'm sorry my mistake made you so much trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's all right, that's all right. Don't say a word... Well—er—good-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, sir... good-night.” + </p> + <p> + But still the little car did not start. It's owner's next remark was + explanatory of the delay. + </p> + <p> + “Course I HOPE you and I'll meet again, Mr. Bangs,” said Raish. “May see + you in Wellmouth, you know. Still, such things are—er—kind of + uncertain and—er—sendin' bills is a nuisance, so perhaps + 'twould be better—er—easier for both of us—if we settled + that little matter of ours right now. Eh?” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon. Little matter? I'm afraid I don't quite—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that little matter of the three dollars for fetchin' you over. Course + it don't amount to nothin', but I kind of like to get them little things + off my mind, don't you? Eh?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs was very much “fussed.” He hurriedly dragged forth the big + pocketbook. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon—really I BEG your pardon,” he stammered over and + over again. “I quite forgot. It was inexcusable of me. I'm SO sorry.” + </p> + <p> + Evidently he felt that he had committed a crime. Mr. Pulcifer took the + three one dollar bills and waved the apologies aside with them. + </p> + <p> + “Don't say a word, Mr. Bangs,” he called, cheerily, as the car began to + move. “Anybody's liable to forget. Do it myself sometimes. Well, so long. + Hope to see you again one of these days. Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + The flivver moved rapidly away, gaining speed as it rushed for the hill. + Galusha Bangs watched its tail-light soar and dwindle until it disappeared + over the crest. Then, with a weary sigh, he picked up the heavy suitcase, + plodded across the road and on until he reached the step and platform of + Erastus Beebe's “General and Variety Store.” There was a kerosene lamp + burning dimly upon the counter within, but the door was locked. He pounded + on the door and shook it, but no one answered. Then, remembering Mr. + Pulcifer's instructions, he entered the yard behind the store, found the + door of Mr. Beebe's house and knocked upon that. There was not even a + light in the house. The Beebes had gone—as most of East Wellmouth + had gone—to the baked beans and brown-bread supper and sociable at + the church. Galusha Bangs was not aware of this, of course. What he was + aware of—painfully, distressingly aware—was the fact that he + was alone and supperless, very, very weak and tired, and almost + discouraged. + </p> + <p> + However, there was no use in standing in the wet grass of the Beebe yard + and giving way to his discouragement. Galusha Bangs was a plucky little + soul, although just now a weak and long-suffering one. He waded and + slopped back to the store platform, where he put down his suitcase and + started on a short tour of exploration. Through the fog and darkness he + could dimly perceive a signpost standing at the corner of the crossroad + where the store was located. He tramped over to look at it. + </p> + <p> + There were two signs affixed to the post. By the aid of the pocket + flashlight he read them. That at the top read thus: “TO THE LIGHTHOUSE—1 + 1/2 MILES.” There was an arrow pointing along the crossroad and off to the + right. Galusha paid little attention to this sign; it was the other nailed + beneath it which caught and held his attention. It was a rather gaudy sign + of red, white, and blue, and it read thus: “THE RESTABIT INN AT GOULD'S + BLUFFS—1 MILE.” And the arrow pointed in the same direction as the + other. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs uttered his favorite exclamation. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me! Why, dear me!” + </p> + <p> + He read the sign again. There was no mistake, his first reading had been + correct. + </p> + <p> + He trotted back to the platform of Mr. Beebe's store. Then, once more + dragging forth the big pocketbook, he fumbled in its various compartments. + After spilling a good many scraps of paper upon the platform and stopping + to pick them up again, he at length found what he was looking for. It was + an advertisement torn from the Summer Resort advertising pages of a + magazine. Holding it so that the feeble light from Mr. Beebe's lamp fell + upon it, Galusha read, as follows: + </p> + <p> + THE RESTABIT INN at Beautiful Gould's Bluffs, East Wellmouth, Mass. Rest, + sea air, and pleasant people: Good food and plenty of it. Reasonable + prices. NO FRILLS. + </p> + <p> + He had chanced upon the advertisement in a tattered, back number magazine + which a fellow passenger had left beside him in a car seat a month before. + He had not quite understood the “NO FRILLS” portion. Apparently it must be + important because the advertiser had put it in capital letters, but Mr. + Bangs was uncertain as to just what it meant. But there was no uncertainty + about the remainder of the “ad.” + </p> + <p> + Rest! His weary muscles and aching joints seemed to relax at the very + whisper of the word. Food! Well, he needed food, it would be welcome, of + course—but rest! Oh, rest!! + </p> + <p> + And food and rest, not to mention reasonable prices and pleasant people + and no frills, were all but a mile away at the Restabit Inn at Gould's + Bluffs—beautiful Gould's Bluffs. No wonder they called them + beautiful. + </p> + <p> + He returned the pocketbook to his inside pocket and the flashlight to an + outside one, turned up his coat collar, pulled the brown derby down as + tightly upon his brow as he could, picked up the heavy suitcase and + started forth to tramp the mile which separated his tired self from food + and rest—especially rest. + </p> + <p> + The first hundred yards of that mile cut him off entirely from the world. + It was dark now, pitch dark, and the fog was so thick as to be almost a + rain. His coat and hat and suitcase dripped with it. The drops ran down + his nose. He felt as if there were almost as much water in the air as + there was beneath him on the ground—not quite as much, for his feet + were wetter than his body, but enough. + </p> + <p> + And it was so still. No sound of voices, no dogs barking, no murmur of the + wind in trees. There did not seem to be any trees. Occasionally he swept a + circle of his immediate surroundings with the little flashlight, but all + its feeble radiance showed was fog and puddles and wet weeds and ruts and + grass—and more fog. + </p> + <p> + Still! Oh, yes, deadly still for a long minute's interval, and then out of + the nowhere ahead, with a suddenness which each time caused his weakened + nerves to vibrate like fiddle strings, would burst the bellow of the great + foghorn. + </p> + <p> + Silence, the splash and “sugg” of Galusha's sodden shoes moving up and + down, up and down—and then: + </p> + <p> + “OW—ooo—ooo—-ooo—OOO!!” + </p> + <p> + Once a minute the foghorn blew and once a minute Galusha Bangs jumped as + if he were hearing it for the first time. + </p> + <p> + The signboard had said “1 MILE.” One hundred miles, one thousand miles; + that was what it should have said to be truthful. Galusha plodded on and + on, stopping to put down the suitcase, then lifting it and pounding on + again. He had had no luncheon; he had had no dinner. He was weak from + illness. He was wet and chilled. And—yes, it was beginning to rain. + </p> + <p> + He put down the suitcase once more. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my soul!” he exclaimed, and not far away, close at hand, the word + “soul” was repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear!” cried Galusha, startled. + </p> + <p> + “Dear!” repeated the echo, for it was an echo. + </p> + <p> + Galusha, brandishing the tiny flashlight, moved toward the sound. + Something bulky, huge, loomed in the blackness, a building. The + flashlight's circle, growing dimmer now for the battery was almost + exhausted, disclosed steps and a broad piazza. Mr. Bangs climbed the + steps, crossed the piazza, the boards of which creaked beneath him. There + were doors, but they were shut tight; there were windows, but they were + shuttered. Down the length of the long piazza tramped Galusha, his heart + sinking. Every window was shuttered, every door was boarded up. Evidently + this place, whatever it was, was closed. It was uninhabited. + </p> + <p> + He came back to the front door again. Over it was a sign, he had not + looked as high before. Now he raised the dimming flashlight and read: + </p> + <p> + “THE RESTABIT INN. Open June 15 to September 15.” + </p> + <p> + September 15!!! Why, September was past and gone. This was the 3rd of + October. The Restabit Inn was closed for the season. + </p> + <p> + Slowly, Galusha, tugging the suitcase, stumbled to the edge of the piazza. + There he collapsed, rather than sat down, upon the upper step. Above him, + upon the piazza roof, the rain descended heavily. The flashlight dimmed + and went out altogether. + </p> + <p> + “OW—ooo—-ooo—ooo—OOO!!” whooped the foghorn. + </p> + <p> + Later, just how much later he never knew exactly, Mr. Bangs awoke from his + faint or collapse or doze, whichever it may have been, to hear some one + calling his name. + </p> + <p> + “Loosh! Loosh! Loosh!” + </p> + <p> + This was odd, very odd. “Loosh” was what he had been called at college. + That is, some of the fellows had called him that, those he liked best. The + others had even more offensive nicknames. He disliked “Loosh” very much, + but he answered to it—then. + </p> + <p> + “Loosh! Loosh! Loosh, where are you?” + </p> + <p> + Queer that any one should be calling him “Loosh”—any one down here + in... Eh? Where was he? He couldn't remember much except that he was very + tired—except— + </p> + <p> + “Loosh! Looshy! Come Looshy!” + </p> + <p> + He staggered to his feet and, leaving the suitcase where it was, stumbled + away in the direction of the voice. The rain, pouring down upon him, + served to bring him back a little nearer to reality. Wasn't that a light + over there, that bright yellow spot in the fog? + </p> + <p> + It was a light, a lighted doorway, with a human figure standing in it. The + figure of a woman, a woman in a dark dress and a white apron. It must be + she who was calling him. Yes, she was calling him again. + </p> + <p> + “Loosh! Loosh! Looshy! Oh, my sakes alive! Why don't you come?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs bumped into something. It was a gate in a picket fence and the + gate swung open. He staggered up the path on the other side of that gate, + the path which led to the doorway where the woman was standing. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, madam,” said Galusha, politely but shakily lifting the brown derby, + “here I am.” + </p> + <p> + The woman started violently, but she did not run nor scream. + </p> + <p> + “My heavens and earth!” she exclaimed. Then, peering forward, she stared + at the dripping apparition which had appeared to her from the fog and + rain. + </p> + <p> + “Here I am, madam,” repeated Mr. Bangs. + </p> + <p> + The woman nodded. She was middle-aged, with a pleasant face and a figure + of the sort which used to be called “comfortable.” Her manner of looking + and speaking were quick and businesslike. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said, promptly, “I can see you are there, so you needn't tell + me again. WHY are you there and who are you?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha's head was spinning dizzily, but he tried to make matters clear. + </p> + <p> + “My name is—is—Dear me, how extraordinary! I seem to have + forgotten it. Oh, yes, it is Bangs—that is it, Bangs. I heard you + calling me, so—” + </p> + <p> + “Heard ME calling YOU?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I—I came down to the hotel—the rest—Rest—that + hotel over there. It was closed. I sat down upon the porch, for I have + been ill recently and I—ah—tire easily. So, as I say—” + </p> + <p> + The woman interrupted him. She had been looking keenly at his face as he + spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Come in. Come into the house,” she commanded, briskly. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs took a step toward her. Then he hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “I—I am very wet, I'm afraid,” he said. “Really, I am not sure that—” + </p> + <p> + “Rubbish! It's because you are wet—wet as a drowned rat—that + I'm askin' you to come in. Come now—quick.” + </p> + <p> + Her tone was not unkind, but it was arbitrary. + </p> + <p> + Galusha made no further protest. She held the door open and he preceded + her into a room, then into another, this last evidently a sitting room. He + was to know it well later; just now he was conscious of little except that + it was a room—and light—and warm—and dry. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down!” ordered his hostess. + </p> + <p> + Galusha found himself standing beside a couch, an old-fashioned sofa. It + tempted him—oh, how it tempted him!—but he remembered the + condition of his garments. + </p> + <p> + “I am very wet indeed,” he faltered. “I'm afraid I may spoil your—your + couch.” + </p> + <p> + “Sit DOWN!” + </p> + <p> + Galusha sat. The room was doing a whirling dervish dance about him, but he + still felt it his duty to explain. + </p> + <p> + “I fear you must think this—ah—very queer,” he stammered. “I + realize that I must seem—ah—perhaps insane, to you. But I + have, as I say, been ill and I have walked several miles, owing to—ah—mistakes + in locality, and not having eaten for some time, since breakfast, in fact, + I—” + </p> + <p> + “Not since BREAKFAST? Didn't you have any dinner, for mercy sakes?” + </p> + <p> + “No, madam. Nor luncheon. Oh, it is quite all right, no one's fault but my + own. Then, when I found the—the hotel closed, I—I sat down to + rest and—and when I heard you call my name—” + </p> + <p> + “Wait a minute. What IS your name?” + </p> + <p> + “My name is Bangs, Galusha Bangs. It seems ridiculous now, as I tell it, + but I certainly thought I heard you or some one call me by the name my + relatives and friends used to use. Of course—” + </p> + <p> + “Wait. What was that name?” + </p> + <p> + Even now, dizzy and faint as he was, Mr. Bangs squirmed upon the sofa. + </p> + <p> + “It was—well, it was Loosh—or—ah—Looshy” he + admitted, guiltily. + </p> + <p> + His hostess' face broke into smiles. Her “comfortable” shoulders shook. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if that doesn't beat everything!” she exclaimed. “I was callin' my + cat; his name is Lucy—Lucy Larcom; sometimes we call him 'Luce' for + short.... Eh? Heavens and earth! Don't do THAT!” + </p> + <p> + But Galusha had already done it. The dervish dance in his head had + culminated in one grand merry-go-round blotting out consciousness + altogether, and he had sunk down upon the sofa. + </p> + <p> + The woman sprang from her chair, bent over him, felt his pulse, and + loosened his collar. + </p> + <p> + “Primmie,” she called. “Primmie, come here this minute, I want you!” + </p> + <p> + There was the sound of scurrying feet, heavy feet, from the adjoining + room, the door opened and a large, raw-boned female, of an age which might + have been almost anything within the range of the late teens or early + twenties, clumped in. She had a saucer in one hand and a dishcloth in the + other. + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm,” she said, “here I be.” Then, seeing the prone figure upon the + sofa, she exclaimed fervently, “Oh, my Lord of Isrul! Who's that?” + </p> + <p> + “Now don't stand there swearin' and askin' questions, but do as I tell + you. You go to the—” + </p> + <p> + “But—but what AILS him? Is he drunk?” + </p> + <p> + “Drunk? What put such a notion as that in your head? Of course he isn't + drunk.” + </p> + <p> + “He ain't—he ain't dead?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't be so silly. He's fainted away, that's all. He's tired out and half + sick and half starved, I guess. Here, where are you goin'?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm a-goin' to fetch some water. They always heave water on fainted + folks.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, this one's had all the water he needs already. The poor thing is + soaked through. You go to the pantry and in the blue soup tureen, the one + we don't use, you'll find a bottle of that cherry rum Cap'n Hallet gave me + three years ago. Bring it right here and bring a tumbler and spoon with + it. After that you see if you can get Doctor Powers on the telephone and + ask him to come right down here as quick as he can. HURRY! Primmie Cash, + if you stop to ask one more question I—I don't know what I'll do to + you. Go ALONG!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Cash went along, noisily along. Her mistress bent over the wet, + pitiful little figure upon the sofa. + </p> + <p> + And thus, working by devious ways, did Fate bring about the meeting of + Galusha Cabot Bangs, of the National Institute, Washington, D. C., and + Miss Martha Phipps, of East Wellmouth, which, it may be said in passing, + was something of an achievement, even for Fate. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + And in order to make clear the truth of the statement just made, namely, + that Fate had achieved something when it brought Galusha Bangs to the door + of Martha Phipps' home that rainy night in October—in order to + emphasize the truth of that statement it may be well, without waiting + further, to explain just who Galusha Cabot Bangs was, and who and what his + family was, and how, although the Bangses were all very well in their way, + the Cabots—his mother's family—were “the banking Cabots of + Boston,” and were, therefore, very great people indeed. + </p> + <p> + “The banking Cabots” must not be confused with any other branch of the + Cabots, of which there are many in Boston. All Boston Cabots are “nice + people,” many are distinguished in some way or other, and all are + distinctly worth while. But “the banking Cabots” have been deep in finance + from the very beginning, from the earliest of colonial times. The salary + of the Reverend Cotton Mather was paid to him by a Cabot, and another + Cabot banked whatever portion of it he saved for a rainy day. In the + Revolution a certain Galusha Cabot, progenitor of the line of Galusha + Cabots, assisted the struggling patriots of Beacon Hill to pay their + troops in the Continental army. During the Civil War his grandson, the + Honorable Galusha Hancock Cabot, one of Boston's most famous bankers and + financiers, was of great assistance to his state and nation in the sale of + bonds and the floating of loans. His youngest daughter, Dorothy Hancock + Cabot, married—well, she should, of course, have married a financier + or a banker or, at the very least, a millionaire stockbroker. But she did + not, she married John Capen Bangs, a thoroughly estimable man, a scholar, + author of two or three scholarly books which few read and almost nobody + bought, and librarian of the Acropolis, a library that Bostonians and the + book world know and revere. + </p> + <p> + The engagement came as a shock to the majority of “banking Cabots.” John + Bangs was all right, but he was not in the least “financial.” He was + respected and admired, but he was not the husband for Galusha Hancock + Cabot's daughter. She should have married a Kidder or a Higginson or some + one high in the world of gold and securities. But she did not, she fell in + love with John Bangs and she married him, and they were happy together for + a time—a time all too brief. + </p> + <p> + In the second year of their marriage a baby boy was born. His mother named + him, her admiring husband being quite convinced that whatever she did was + sure to be exactly the right thing. So, in order to keep up the family + tradition and honors—“He has a perfect Cabot head. You see it, don't + you, John dear”—she named him Galusha Cabot Bangs. And then, but + three years afterward, she died. + </p> + <p> + John Capen Bangs remained in Boston until his son was nine. Then his + health began to fail. Years of pawing and paring over old volumes amid the + dust and close air of book-lined rooms brought on a cough, a cough which + made physicians who heard it look grave. It was before the days of + Adirondack Mountain sanitariums. They told John Bangs to go South, to + Florida. He went there, leaving his son at school in Boston, but the warm + air and sunshine did not help the cough. Then they sent him to Colorado, + where the boy Galusha joined him. For five years he and the boy lived in + Colorado. Then John Capen Bangs died. + </p> + <p> + Dorothy Hancock Cabot had a sister, an older sister, Clarissa Peabody + Cabot. Clarissa did not marry a librarian as her sister did, nor did she + marry a financier, as was expected of her. This was not her fault exactly; + if the right financier had happened along and asked, it is quite probable + that he would have been accepted. He did not happen along; in fact, no one + happened along until Clarissa was in her thirties and somewhat anxious. + Then came Joshua Bute of Chicago, and when wooed she accepted and married + him. More than that, she went with him to Chicago, where stood the great + establishment which turned out “Bute's Banner Brand Butterine” and “Bute's + Banner Brand Leaf Lard” and “Bute's Banner Brand Back-Home Sausage” and + “Bute's Banner Brand Better Baked Beans.” Also there was a magnificent + mansion on the Avenue. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Clarissa had family and culture and a Boston manner. Uncle Joshua had + a kind heart, a hemispherical waistcoat and a tremendous deal of money. + Later on the kind heart stopped beating and Aunt Clarissa was left with + the money, the mansion and—but of course the “manner” had been all + her own all the time. + </p> + <p> + So when John Bangs died, Aunt Clarissa Bute sent for the son, talked with + the latter, and liked him. She wrote to her relative, Augustus Adams + Cabot, of Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot, in Boston, who, although still a + young man, was already known as a financier, and looked out for her + various investments, saying that she found young Galusha “a nice boy, + though rather odd, like his father,” and that she thought of taking his + rearing and education into her own hands. “I have no children of my own, + Augustus. What do you think of the idea?” Augustus thought it a good one; + at least he wrote that he did. So Aunt Clarissa took charge of Galusha + Bangs. + </p> + <p> + The boy was fourteen then, a dreamy, shy youngster, who wore spectacles + and preferred curling up in a corner with a book to playing baseball. It + was early spring when he came to live with Aunt Clarissa and before the + summer began he had already astonished his relative more than once. On one + occasion a visitor, admiring the Bute library, asked how many volumes it + contained. Aunt Clarissa replied that she did not know. “I have added from + time to time such books as I desired and have discarded others. I really + have no idea how many there are.” Then Galusha, from the recess by the + window, looked up over the top of the huge first volume of Ancient Nineveh + and Its Remains which he was reading and observed: “There were five + thousand six hundred and seventeen yesterday, Auntie.” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Clarissa started so violently that her eyeglasses fell from her + aquiline nose to the end of their chain. + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens, child! I didn't know you were there. What did you say?” + </p> + <p> + “I said there were five thousand six hundred and seventeen books on the + shelves here yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “I counted them.” + </p> + <p> + “COUNTED them? Mercy! What for?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha's spectacles gleamed. “For fun,” he said. + </p> + <p> + On another occasion his aunt found him still poring over Ancient Nineveh + and Its Remains; it was the fifth volume now, however. + </p> + <p> + “Do you LIKE to read that?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Auntie. I've read four already and, counting this one, there are + five more to read.” + </p> + <p> + Now Aunt Clarissa had never read Ancient Nineveh herself. Her bookseller + had assured her that it was a very remarkable set, quite rare and + complete. “We seldom pick one up nowadays, Mrs. Bute. You should buy it.” + So Aunt Clarissa bought it, but she had never thought of reading it. + </p> + <p> + She looked down over her nephew's shoulder at the broad page with its + diagram of an ancient temple and its drawings of human-headed bulls in + bas-relief. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you find it so interesting?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Galusha looked up at her. His eyes were alight with excitement. + </p> + <p> + “They dig those things up over there,” he said, pointing to one of the + bulls. “It's all sand and rocks—and everything, but they send an + expedition and the people in it figure out where the city or the temple or + whatever it is ought to be, and then they dig and—and find it. And + you can't tell WHAT you'll find, exactly. And sometimes you don't find + much of anything.” + </p> + <p> + “After all the digging and work?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but that's where the fun comes in. Then you figure all over again + and keep on trying and trying. And when you DO find 'em there are + sculptures like this—oh, yards and yards of 'em—and all sort + of queer, funny old inscriptions to be studied out. Gee, it must be great! + Don't you think so, Auntie?” + </p> + <p> + Aunt Clarissa's reply was noncommittal. That evening she wrote a letter to + Augustus Cabot in Boston. “He is a good boy,” she wrote, referring to + Galusha, “but queer—oh, dreadfully queer. It's his father's + queerness cropping out, of course, but it shouldn't be permitted to + develop. I have set my heart on his becoming a financier like the other + Galushas in our line. Of course he will always be a Bangs—more's the + pity—but his middle name is Cabot and his first IS Galusha. I think + he had best continue his schooling in or near Boston where you can + influence him, Augustus. I wish him well grounded in mathematics and—oh, + you understand, the financial branches. Select a school, the right sort of + school, for him, to oblige me, will you, Gus?” + </p> + <p> + Augustus Cabot chose a school, a select, aristocratic and expensive school + near the “Hub of the Universe.” Thither, in the fall, went Galusha and + there he remained until he was eighteen, when he entered Harvard. At + college, as at school, he plugged away at his studies, and he managed to + win sufficiently high marks in mathematics. But his mathematical genius + was of a queer twist. In the practical dollars and cents sort of figuring + he was almost worthless. Money did not interest him at all. What + interested him was to estimate how many bricks there were in “Mem” and how + many more there might have been if it had been built a story higher. + </p> + <p> + “This room,” he said to a classmate, referring to his study in old Thayer, + “was built in ——” naming the year. “Now allowing that a + different fellow lived in it each year, which is fair enough because they + almost always change, that means that at least so many fellows,” giving + the number, “have occupied this room since the beginning. That is, + provided there was but one fellow living in the room at a time. Now we + know that, for part of the time, this was a double room, so—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, for the love of Mike, Loosh!” exclaimed the classmate, “cut it out. + What do you waste your time doing crazy stunts like that for?” + </p> + <p> + “But it's fun. Say, if they had all cut their initials around on the door + frames and the—ah—mop boards it would be great stuff to puzzle + 'em out and make a list of 'em, wouldn't it? I wish they had.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't. It would make the old rat hole look like blazes and it is + bad enough as it is. Come on down and watch the practice.” + </p> + <p> + One of young Bangs' peculiar enjoyments, developed during his senior year, + was to visit every old cemetery in or about the city and examine and copy + the ancient epitaphs and inscriptions. Pleasant spring afternoons, when + normal-minded Harvard men were busy with baseball or track or tennis, or + the hundred and one activities which help to keep young America employed + in a great university, Galusha might have been, and was, seen hopping + about some grass-grown graveyard, like a bespectacled ghoul, making + tracings of winged death's-heads or lugubrious tombstone poetry. When they + guyed him he merely grinned, blushed, and was silent. To the few—the + very few—in whom he confided he made explanations which were as + curious as their cause. + </p> + <p> + “It's great fun,” he declared. “It keeps you guessing, that's it. Now, for + instance, here's one of those skull jiggers with wings on it. See? I + traced this over at Copp's Hill last spring, a year ago. But there are + dozens of 'em all about, in all the old graveyards. Nobody ever saw a + skull with wings; it's a—a—ah—convention, of course. But + who made the first one? And why did it become a convention? And—and—why + do some of 'em have wings like this, and some of 'em crossbones like a + pirate's flag, and some of 'em no wings or bones, and why—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, good Lord! I don't know. Forget it. You make a noise like a hearse, + Loosh.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you don't know. <i>I</i> don't know. I don't suppose anybody + knows, exactly. But isn't it great fun to study 'em up, and see the + different kinds, and think about the old chaps who carved 'em, and wonder + about 'em and—” + </p> + <p> + “No, I'll be banged if it is! It's crazy nonsense. You've got pigeons in + your loft, Loosh. Come on out and give the birds an airing.” + </p> + <p> + This was the general opinion of the class of 19—, that old “Loosh + had pigeons in his loft.” However, it was agreed that they were harmless + fowl and that Galusha himself was a good old scout, in spite of his + aviary. + </p> + <p> + He graduated with high honors in the mathematical branches and in + languages. Then the no less firm because feminine hand of Aunt Clarissa + grasped him, so to speak, by the collar and guided him to the portals of + the banking house of Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot, where “Cousin Gussie” took + him in charge with the instructions to make a financier of him. + </p> + <p> + “Cousin Gussie,” junior member of the firm, then in his early thirties, + thrust his hands into the pockets of his smart tweed trousers, tilted from + heels to toes of his stylish and very shiny shoes and whistled beneath his + trim mustache. He had met Galusha often before, but that fact did not make + him more optimistic, rather the contrary. + </p> + <p> + “So you want to be a banker, do you, Loosh?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Galusha regarded him sadly through the spectacles. + </p> + <p> + “Auntie wants me to be one,” he said. + </p> + <p> + The experiment lasted a trifle over six months. At the end of that time + the junior partner of Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot had another interview with + his firm's most recent addition to its list of employees. + </p> + <p> + “You're simply no good at the job, that's the plain truth,” said the + banker, with the candor of exasperation. “You've cost us a thousand + dollars more than your salary already by mistakes and forgetfulness and + all the rest of it. You'll never make your salt at this game in a million + years. Don't you know it, yourself?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, simply. + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Oh, you do! Well, that's something.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew it when I came here.” + </p> + <p> + “Knew you would be no good at the job?” + </p> + <p> + “At this job, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then for heaven's sake why did you take it?” + </p> + <p> + “I told you. Aunt Clarissa wanted me to.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you can't stay here, that's all. I'm sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “So am I, for Auntie's sake and yours. I realize I have made you a lot of—ah—trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's all right, that's all right. Hang it all, I feel like a beast + to chuck you out this way, but I have partners, you know. What will you do + now?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + Cousin Gussie reflected. “I think perhaps you'd better go back to Aunt + Clarissa,” he said. “Possibly she will tell you what to do. Don't you + think she will?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! You seem to be mighty sure of it. How do you know she will?” + </p> + <p> + For the first time a gleam, a very slight and almost pathetic gleam, of + humor shone behind Galusha's spectacles. + </p> + <p> + “Because she always does,” he said. And thus ended his connection with the + banking profession. + </p> + <p> + Aunt Clarissa was disgusted and disappointed, of course. She expressed her + feelings without reservation. However, she laid most of the blame upon + heredity. + </p> + <p> + “You got it from that impractical librarian,” she declared. “Why did + Dorothy marry him? She might have known what the result would be.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha was more downcast even than his relative. + </p> + <p> + “I'm awfully sorry, Aunt Clarissa,” he said. “I realize I am a dreadful + disappointment to you. I tried, I honestly did, but—” + </p> + <p> + And here he coughed, coughed lengthily and in a manner which caused his + aunt to look alarmed and anxious. She had heard John Capen Bangs cough + like that. That very afternoon the Bute family physician saw, questioned + and examined Galusha. The following day an eminent specialist did the same + things. And both doctors looked gravely at each other and at their + patient. + </p> + <p> + Within a week Galusha was on his way to an Arizona ranch, a place where he + was to find sunshine and dry climate. He was to be out of doors as much as + possible, he was to ride and walk much, he was to do all sorts of + distasteful things, but he promised faithfully to do them, for his aunt's + sake. As a matter of fact, he took little interest in the matter for his + own. His was a sensitive spirit, although a quiet, shy and “queer” one, + and to find that he was “no good” at any particular employment, even + though he had felt fairly certain of that fact beforehand, hurt more than + he acknowledged to others. Galusha went to Arizona because his aunt, to + whose kindness and generosity he owed so much, wished him to do so. For + himself he did not care where he went or what became of him. + </p> + <p> + But his feelings changed a few months later, when health began to return + and the cough to diminish in frequency and violence. And then came to the + ranch where he lodged and boarded an expedition from an eastern museum. It + was an expedition sent to explore the near-by canyon for trace of the + ancient “cliff dwellers,” to find and, if need be, excavate the villages + of this strange people and to do research work among them. The expedition + was in charge of an eminent scientist. Galusha met and talked with the + scientist and liked him at once, a liking which was to grow into adoration + as the acquaintanceship between the two warmed into friendship. The young + man was invited to accompany the expedition upon one of its exploring + trips. He accepted and, although he did not then realize it, upon that + trip he discovered, not only an ancient cliff village, but the life work + of Galusha Cabot Bangs. + </p> + <p> + For Galusha was wild with enthusiasm. Scrambling amid the rocks, wading or + tumbling into the frigid waters of mountain streams, sleeping anywhere or + not sleeping, all these hardships were of no consequence whatever compared + with the thrill which came with the first glimpse of, high up under the + bulging brow of an overhanging cliff, a rude wall and a cluster of half + ruined dwellings sticking to the side of the precipice as barn swallows' + nests are plastered beneath eaves. Then the climb and the glorious + burrowing into the homes of these long dead folk, the hallelujahs when a + bit of broken pottery was found, and the delightfully arduous labor of + painstakingly uncovering and cleaning a bit of rude carving. The average + man would have tired of it in two days, a week of it would have bored him + to distraction. But the longer it lasted and the harder the labor, the + brighter Galusha's eyes sparkled behind his spectacles. Years before, when + his aunt had asked him concerning his interest in the books about ancient + Nineveh, he had described to her the work of the explorers and had cried: + “Gee, it must be great!” Well, now he was, in a very humble way, helping + to do something of the sort himself, and—gee, it WAS great! + </p> + <p> + Such enthusiasm as his and such marked aptitude, amounting almost to + genius, could not help but make an impression. The distinguished savant at + the head of the expedition returned the young man's liking. Before + returning East, he said: + </p> + <p> + “Bangs, next fall I am planning an expedition to Ecuador. I'd like to have + you go with me. Oh, this isn't offered merely for your sake, it is quite + as much for mine. You're worth at least three of the average young fellows + who have trained for this sort of thing. There will be a salary for you, + of course, but it won't be large. On the other hand, there will be no + personal expense and some experience. Will you go?” + </p> + <p> + Would he GO? Why— + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know. But there is your health to be considered. I can't afford to + have a sick man along. You stay here for the present and put in your time + getting absolutely fit.” + </p> + <p> + “But—but I AM fit.” + </p> + <p> + “Um—yes; well, then, get fitter.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha went to Ecuador. Aunt Clarissa protested, scolded, declared him + insane—and capitulated only when she found that he was going anyhow. + He returned from the expedition higher than ever in favor with his chief. + He was offered a position in the archeological department of the museum. + He accepted first and then told Aunt Clarissa. + </p> + <p> + That was the real beginning. After that the years rolled placidly along. + He went to Egypt, under his beloved chief, and there found exactly what he + had dreamed. The desert, the pyramids, the sculptures, the ancient + writings, the buried tombs and temples—all those Galusha saw and + took, figuratively speaking, for his own. On his return he settled down to + the study of Egyptology, its writings, its history, its every detail. He + made another trip to the beloved land and distinguished himself and his + museum by his discoveries. His chief died and Galusha was offered the post + left vacant. He accepted. Later—some years later—he was called + to the National Institute at Washington. + </p> + <p> + When he was thirty-seven his Aunt Clarissa died. She left all her property + to her nephew. But she left it in trust, in trust with Cousin Gussie. + There was a letter to the latter in the envelope with the will. “He is to + have only the income, the income, understand—until he is + forty-five,” Aunt Clarissa had written. “Heaven knows, I am afraid even + THAT is too young for a child such as he is in everything except + pyramids.” + </p> + <p> + Cousin Gussie, now the dignified and highly respected senior partner of + Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot, took charge of the Bute—now the Bangs—property. + There was not as much of it as most people had supposed; since Uncle + Joshua passed on certain investments had gone wrong, but there was income + enough to furnish any mortal of ordinary tastes with the means of + gratifying them and still have a substantial residue left. Galusha + understood this, in a vague sort of way, but he did not care. Outside of + his beloved profession he had no tastes and no desires. Life for him was, + as Cousin Gussie unfeelingly put it, “one damned mummy after the other.” + In fact, after the arrival of the first installment of income, he traveled + posthaste to the office of his Boston relative and entered a protest. + </p> + <p> + “You—you mustn't send any more, really you mustn't,” he declared, + anxiously. “I don't know what to do with it.” + </p> + <p> + “DO with it? Do with the money, you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes, that's it.” + </p> + <p> + “But don't you need it to live on?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear me, no!” + </p> + <p> + “What DO you live on?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, my salary.” + </p> + <p> + “How much is your salary, if you don't mind telling us?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha did not in the least mind. The figure he named seemed a small one + to his banking relative, used to big sums. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” grunted the latter; “well, that isn't so tremendous. They don't + overpay you mummy-dusters, do they? And you really don't want me to send + you any more?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not if you're sure you don't mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't mind. Then you want me to keep it and reinvest it for you; is + that it?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I think so. Yes, reinvest it or—ah—something.” + </p> + <p> + “But you may need some of it occasionally. If you do you will notify me, + of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes; yes, indeed. Thank you very much. It's quite a weight off my + mind, really it is.” + </p> + <p> + Cabot could not help laughing. Then a thought struck him. + </p> + <p> + “Did you bring back the check I sent you?” he asked. Galusha looked + somewhat confused. + </p> + <p> + “Why, why, no, I didn't,” he admitted. “I had intended to, but you see—Dear + me, dear me, I hope you will feel that I did right. You see, our + paleontological department had been hoping to fit out an expedition to the + Wyoming fossil fields, but it was lamentably short of funds, + appropriations—ah—and so on. Hambridge and I were talking of + the matter. A very adequate man indeed, Hambridge. Possibly you've read + some of his writings. He wrote Lesser Reptilian Life in the Jurassio. Are + you acquainted with that?” + </p> + <p> + Cousin Gussie shook his head. “Never have been introduced,” he observed, + with a chuckle. Galusha noted the chuckle and smiled. + </p> + <p> + “I imagine not,” he observed. “I fear it isn't what is called a—ah—best + seller. Well—ah—Dear me, where was I? Oh, yes! Hambridge, poor + fellow, was very much upset at the prospect of abandoning his expedition + and I, knowing from experience what such a disappointment means, + sympathized with him. Your check was at that moment lying on my desk. So—so—It + was rather on the spur of the moment, I confess—I—” + </p> + <p> + The banker interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “Are you trying to tell me,” he demanded, “that you handed that check over + to that other—that other—” + </p> + <p> + He seemed rather at a loss for the word. + </p> + <p> + Galusha nodded. + </p> + <p> + “To finance Hambridge's expedition? Yes,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “ALL of it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—ah—yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, by George!” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it was impulsive on my part. But, you see, Hambridge DID need the + money. And of course I didn't. The only thing that troubles me is the fact + that, after all, it was money Aunt Clarissa left to me and I should prefer + to do what she would have liked with it. I fear she might not have liked + this.” + </p> + <p> + Cabot nodded, grimly. He had known Aunt Clarissa very, very well. + </p> + <p> + “You bet she wouldn't,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. So don't send me any more, will you? Ah—not unless I ask for + it.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I won't.” Then he added, “And not then unless I know WHY you ask for + it, you can bet on that.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha was as grateful as if he had been granted a great favor. As they + walked through the outer office together he endeavored to express his + feelings. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, thank you very much, Cousin Gussie,” he said, earnestly. His + relative glanced about at the desks where rows of overjoyed clerks were + trying to suppress delighted grins and pretend not to have heard. + </p> + <p> + “You're welcome, Loosh,” he said, as they parted at the door, “but don't + you ever dare call me 'Cousin Gussie' again in public as long as you + live.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha Bangs returned to his beloved work at the National Institute and + his income was reinvested for him by the senior partner of Cabot, Bancroft + and Cabot. Occasionally Galusha requested that a portion of it be sent + him, usually for donation to this department or that or to assist in + fitting out an expedition of his own, but, generally speaking, he was + quite content with his modest salary. He unwrapped his mummies and + deciphered his moldering papyri, living far more in ancient Egypt than in + modern Washington. The Great War and its demands upon the youth of the + world left the Institute short-handed and he labored harder than ever, + doing the work of two assistants as well as his own. It was the only thing + he could do for his country, the only thing that country would permit him + to do, but he tried to do that well. Then the Hindenburg line was broken, + the armistice was signed and the civilized world rejoiced. + </p> + <p> + But Galusha Bangs did not rejoice, for his health had broken, like the + enemy's resistance, and the doctors told him that he was to go away at + once. + </p> + <p> + “You must leave all this,” commanded the doctor; “forget it. You must get + away, get out of doors and stay out.” + </p> + <p> + For a moment Galusha was downcast. Then he brightened. + </p> + <p> + “There is an expedition from the New York museum about to start for + Syria,” he said. “I am quite sure I would be permitted to accompany it. + I'll write at once and—” + </p> + <p> + “Here, here! Wait! You'll do nothing of the sort. I said forget that sort + of thing. You can't go wandering off to dig in the desert; you might as + well stay in this place and dig here. Get away from it all. Go where there + are people.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Doctor Raymond, there are people in Syria, a great many of them, and + most interesting people. I have—” + </p> + <p> + “No. You are to forget Syria and Egypt and your work altogether. Keep out + of doors, meet people, exercise—play golf, perhaps. The main trouble + with you just now is nerve weariness and lack of strength. Eat, sleep, + rest, build up. Eat regular meals at regular times. Go to bed at a regular + hour. I would suggest your going to some resort, either in the mountains + or at the seashore. Enjoy yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “But, doctor, I DON'T enjoy myself at such places. I am quite wretched. + Really I am.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, you must do precisely as I tell you. Your lungs are quite all + right at present, but, as you know, they have a tendency to become all + wrong with very little provocation. I tell you to go away at once, at + once. And STAY away, for a year at least. If you don't, my friend, you are + going to die. Is that plain?” + </p> + <p> + It was plain, certainly. Galusha took off his spectacles and rubbed them, + absently. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me!... Dear me!—ah—Oh, dear!” he observed. + </p> + <p> + A resort? Galusha knew precious little about resorts; they were places he + had hitherto tried to avoid. He asked his stenographer to name a resort + where one would be likely to meet—ah—a good many people and + find—ah—air and—ah—that sort of thing. The + stenographer suggested Atlantic City. She had no idea why he asked the + question. + </p> + <p> + Galusha went to Atlantic City. Atlantic City in August! Two days of crowds + and noise were sufficient. A crumpled, perspiring wreck, he boarded the + train bound for the mountains. The White Mountains were his destination. + He had never visited them, but he knew them by reputation. + </p> + <p> + The White Mountains were not so bad. The crowds at the hotels were not + pleasant, but one could get away into the woods and walk, and there was an + occasional old cemetery to be visited. But as the fall season drew on the + crowds grew greater. People persisted in talking to Galusha when he did + not care to be talked to. They asked questions. And one had to dress—or + most DID dress—for dinner. He tired of the mountains; there were too + many people there, they made him feel “queerer” than ever. + </p> + <p> + On his way from Atlantic City to the mountains he happened upon the + discarded magazine with the advertisement of the Restabit Inn in it. Just + why he had torn out that “ad” and kept it he was himself, perhaps, not + quite sure. The “rest” and “sea air” and “pleasant people” were exactly + what the doctor had prescribed for him, but that was not the whole reason + for the advertisement's retention. An association of ideas was the real + reason. Just before he found the magazine he had received Mrs. Hall's + postcard with its renewal of the invitation to visit the Hall cottage at + Wellmouth. And the Restabit Inn was at East Wellmouth. + </p> + <p> + His determination to accept the Hall invitation and make the visit was as + sudden as it was belated. The postcard came in August, but it was not + until October that Galusha made up his mind. His decision was brought to a + focus by the help of Mrs. Worth Buckley. Mrs. Buckley's help had not been + solicited, but was volunteered, and, as a matter of fact, its effect was + the reverse of that which the lady intended. Nevertheless, had it not been + for Mrs. Buckley it is doubtful if Galusha would have started for + Wellmouth. + </p> + <p> + She came upon him first one brilliant afternoon when he was sitting upon a + rock, resting his weary legs—they wearied so easily nowadays—and + looking off at the mountain-side ablaze with autumn coloring. She was + large and commanding, and she spoke with a manner, a very decided manner. + She asked him if—he would pardon her for asking, wouldn't he?—but + had she, by any chance, the honor of addressing Doctor Bangs, the + Egyptologist. Oh, really? How very wonderful! She was quite certain that + it was he. She had heard him deliver a series of lectures—oh, the + most WONDERFUL things, they were, really—at the museum some years + before. She had been introduced to him at that time, but he had forgotten + her, of course. Quite natural that he should. “You meet so many people, + Doctor Bangs—or should I say 'Professor'?” + </p> + <p> + He hoped she would say neither. He had an odd prejudice of his own against + titles, and to be called “Mister” Bangs was the short road to his favor. + He tried to tell this woman so, but it was of no use. In a little while he + found it quite as useless to attempt telling her anything. The simplest + way, apparently, was silently and patiently to endure while she talked—and + talked—and talked. + </p> + <p> + Memories of her monologues, if they could have been taken in shorthand + from Galusha's mind, would have been merely a succession of “I” and “I” + and “I” and “Oh, do you really think so, Doctor Bangs?” and “Oh, + Professor!” and “wonderful” and “amazing” and “quite thrilling” and much + more of the same. + </p> + <p> + She followed him when he went to walk; that is, apparently she did, for he + was continually encountering her. She came and sat next him on the hotel + veranda. She bowed and smiled to him when she swept into the dining room + at meal times. Worst of all, she told others, many others, who he was, and + he was aware of being stared at, a knowledge which made him acutely + self-conscious and correspondingly miserable. There was a Mr. Worth + Buckley trotting in her wake, but he was mild and inoffensive. His wife, + however—Galusha exclaimed, “Oh, dear me!” inwardly or aloud whenever + he thought of her. + </p> + <p> + And she WOULD talk of Egypt. She and her husband had visited Cairo once + upon a time, so she felt herself as familiar with the whole Nile basin as + with the goldfish tank in the hotel lounge. To Galusha Egypt was an + enchanted land, a sort of paradise to which fortunate explorers might + eventually be permitted to go if they were very, very good. To have this + sacrilegious female patting the Sphinx on the head was more than he could + stand. + </p> + <p> + So he determined to stand it no longer; he ran away. One evening Mrs. + Buckley informed him that she and a little group—“a really select + group, Professor Bangs”—of the hotel inmates were to picnic + somewhere or other the following day. “And you are to come with us, + Doctor, and tell us about those wonderful temples you and I were + discussing yesterday. I have told the others something of what you told me + and they are quite WILD to hear you.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha was quite wild also. He went to his room and, pawing amid the + chaos of his bureau drawer for a clean collar, chanced upon the postcard + from Mrs. Hall. The postcard reminded him of the advertisement of the + Restabit Inn, which was in his pocketbook. Then the idea came to him. He + would go to the Hall cottage and make a visit of a day or two. If he liked + the Cape and Wellmouth he would take lodgings at the Restabit Inn and stay + as long as he wished. The suspicion that the inn might be closed did not + occur to him. The season was at its height in the mountains, and Atlantic + City, so they had told him there, ran at full blast all the year. So much + he knew, and the rest he did not think about. + </p> + <p> + He spent most of that night packing his trunk and his suitcase. He left + word for the former to be sent to him by express and the latter he took + with him. He tiptoed downstairs, ate a hasty breakfast, and took the + earliest train for Boston, The following afternoon he started upon his + Cape Cod pilgrimage, a pilgrimage which was to end in a fainting fit upon + the sofa in Miss Martha Phipps' sitting room. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + The fainting fit did not last long. When Galusha again became interested + in the affairs of this world it was to become aware that a glass + containing something not unpleasantly fragrant was held directly beneath + his nose and that some one was commanding him to drink. + </p> + <p> + So he drank, and the fragrant liquid in the tumbler descended to his + stomach and thence, apparently, to his fingers and toes; at all events + those chilled members began to tingle agreeably. Mr. Bangs attempted to + sit up. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, you stay right where you are,” said the voice, the same voice + which had urged him to drink. + </p> + <p> + “But really I—I am quite well now. And your sofa—” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind the sofa. You aren't the first soakin' wet mortal that has + been on it. No, you mind me and stay still.... Primmie!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm. Here I be.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you get the doctor on the 'phone?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm. He said he'd be right down soon's ever he could. He was kind of + fussy 'long at fust; said he hadn't had no supper and was wet through, and + all such talk's that. But I headed HIM off, my savin' soul, yes! Says I, + 'There's a man here that's more'n wet through; he ain't had a thing but + rum since I don't know when.'” + </p> + <p> + “Heavens and earth! WHAT did you tell him that for?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, it's so, ain't it, Miss Marthy? You said yourself he was starved.” + </p> + <p> + “But what did you tell him about the rum for? Never mind, never mind. + Don't stop to argue about it. You go out and make some tea, hot tea, and + toast some bread. And hurry, Primmie—HURRY!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm, but—” + </p> + <p> + “HURRY!... And Primmie Cash, if you scorch that toast-bread I'll scrape + off the burned part and make you eat it, I declare I will. Now you lie + right still, Mr.—er—Bangs, did you say your name was?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but really, madam—” + </p> + <p> + “My name is Phipps, Martha Phipps.” + </p> + <p> + “Really. Mrs. Phipps—” + </p> + <p> + “Miss, not Mrs.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon. Really, Miss Phipps, I cannot permit you to take so + much trouble. I must go on, back to the village—or—or + somewhere. I—Dear me?” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, nothing, my head is rather confused—dizzy. I shall be all + right again, shortly. I am ashamed of myself.” + </p> + <p> + “You needn't be. Anybody that has walked 'way down here, a night like + this, on an empty stomach—” She paused, laughed, and exclaimed, “Of + course, I don't mean you walked on your stomach, exactly, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha smiled, feebly. “There were times when I began to think I should + be forced to,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I don't doubt it. There, there! now don't try to talk any more till + you've had something to eat. Doctor Powers will be here pretty soon; it + isn't very far—in an automobile. I'm afraid he's liable to have a + queer notion of what's the matter with you. The idea of that Primmie + tellin' him you hadn't had anything but rum for she didn't know how long! + My, my! Well, 'twas the truth, but it bears out what my father used to + say, that a little truth was like a little learnin', an awfully dangerous + thing.... There, there! don't talk. I'll talk for both of us. I have a + faculty that way—father used to say THAT, too,” she added, with a + broad smile. + </p> + <p> + When Doctor Powers did arrive, which was about fifteen minutes later, he + found the patient he had come to see drinking hot tea and eating buttered + toast. He was sitting in a big rocker with his steaming shoes propped + against the stove. Miss Phipps introduced the pair and explained matters + to the extent of her knowledge. Galusha added the lacking details. + </p> + <p> + The doctor felt the Bangs' pulse and took the Bangs temperature. The owner + of the pulse and temperature made feeble protests, declaring himself to be + “perfectly all right, really” and that he must be going back to the + village. He couldn't think of putting every one to so much trouble. + </p> + <p> + “And where will you go when you get back to the village?” asked Doctor + Powers. + </p> + <p> + “Why, to the—ah—hotel. I presume there is a hotel.” + </p> + <p> + “No, there isn't. The Inn across the road here is the only hotel in East + Wellmouth, and that is closed for the season.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me, doctor! Dear me! Well, perhaps I may be able to hire a—ah—car + or wagon or something to take me to Wellmouth. I have friends in + Wellmouth; I intended visiting them. Do you know Professor Hall—ah—George + Hall, of New York?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know him well. He and his family are patients of mine. But the + Halls are not in Wellmouth now.” + </p> + <p> + “They are not?” + </p> + <p> + “No, they went back to New York two weeks or more ago. Their cottage is + closed.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me!... Oh, dear!... Why, but—but there IS a hotel at + Wellmouth?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, a kind of hotel, but you mustn't think of going there to-night.” + Then, with a motion of his hand, he indicated to Miss Phipps that he + wished to speak with her alone. She led the way to the kitchen and he + followed. + </p> + <p> + “Martha,” he said, when the door closed, “to be absolutely honest with + you, that man in there shouldn't go out again to-night. He has been half + sick for some time, I judge from what he has told me, and he is weak and + worn out from his tramp and wetting.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phipps shook her head impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “The idea of Raish Pulcifer's cartin' him 'way over here and then leavin' + him in the middle of the road,” she said. “It's just like Raish, but that + doesn't help it any; nothin' that's like Raish helps anything—much,” + she added. + </p> + <p> + The doctor laughed. + </p> + <p> + “I'm beginning to believe you're right, Martha,” he agreed. + </p> + <p> + “I'm pretty sure I am. I think I know Raish Pulcifer by this time; I + almost wish I didn't. Father used to say that if ignorance was bliss the + home for feeble-minded folks ought to be a paradise. But I don't know; + sometimes I wish I wasn't so wise about some things; I might be happier.” + </p> + <p> + Her pleasant, comely face had clouded over. Doctor Powers thought he + understood why. + </p> + <p> + “Haven't heard anything hopeful about the Wellmouth Development Company, + have you?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Not a word. I've almost given up expectin' to. How about you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I've heard nothing new. Well, I've got only ten shares, so the loss, + if it is a loss, won't break me. But Cap'n Jethro went in rather heavily, + so they say.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe he did.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Well, it may be all right, after all. Raish says all we need is + time.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. And that's all the Lord needed when He made the world. He made it + in six days. Sometimes when I'm out of sorts I wonder if one more week + wouldn't have given us a better job.... But there, that's irreverent, + isn't it, and off the track besides? Now about this little Bangs man. What + ought to be done with him?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, as I say, he shouldn't go out to-night. Of course he'll have to.” + </p> + <p> + “Why will he have to?” + </p> + <p> + “Because he needs to go to bed and sleep. I thought perhaps I could get + him down to the light and Cap'n Jethro and Lulie could give him a room.” + </p> + <p> + “There's a room here. Two or three of 'em, as far as that goes. He isn't + very big; he won't need more than one.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Martha, I didn't know how you would feel about taking a strange man + into your house, at night, and—” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phipps interrupted him. + </p> + <p> + “Heavens and earth, doctor!” she exclaimed, “what DO you think I am? I'm + forty-one years old next August and I weigh—Well, I won't tell you + what I weigh, but I blush every time I see the scales. If you think I'm + afraid of a little, meek creature like the one in the sittin' room you + never made a bigger mistake. And there's Primmie to help me, in case I + need help, which I shan't. Besides he doesn't look as if he would run off + with the spoons, now does he?” + </p> + <p> + Doctor Powers laughed heartily. “Why, no, he doesn't,” he admitted. “I + think you'll find him a quiet little chap.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. And he isn't able to half look after himself when he's well, to say + nothin' of when he's sick. Anybody—any woman, anyhow—could + tell that just by lookin' at him. And I've brought up a father, so I've + had experience. He'll stay right here in the spare bedroom to-night—yes, + and to-morrow night, too, if you think he'd better. Now don't talk any + more rubbish, but go in and tell him so.” + </p> + <p> + Her hand was on the latch of the sitting room door when the doctor asked + one more question. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Martha,” he asked, “this is not my business, but as a friend of + yours I—Tell me: Cap'n Jim—your father, I mean—didn't + put more money than he could spare in that Development scheme, did he? I + mean you, yourself, aren't—er—likely to be embarrassed in case—in + case—” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phipps interrupted hastily, almost too hastily, so Doctor Powers + thought. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, of course not,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Truly, Martha? I'm only asking as a friend, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course. There now, doctor, don't you worry about me. You know + what father and I were to each other; is it likely he would leave me in + trouble of any kind? Now come in and see if Primmie has talked this little + sick man of ours into another faintin' fit.” + </p> + <p> + Primmie had not, but the “little sick man” came, apparently, very near to + fainting when told that he was to occupy the Phipps' spare bedroom + overnight. Oh, he could not possibly do such a thing, really he couldn't + think of it! “Dear me, Miss Phipps, I—” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phipps paid absolutely no heed to his protests. Neither did the + doctor, who was giving her directions concerning some tablets. “One to be + taken now and another in the morning. Perhaps he had better stay in bed + until I come, Martha. I'll be down after breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, doctor. Do you think he's had enough to eat?” + </p> + <p> + “Enough for to-night, yes. Now, Mr. Bangs,” turning to the still + protesting Galusha, “you and I will go upstairs and see that you get to + bed.” + </p> + <p> + “But, really, doctor, I—” + </p> + <p> + “What's troublin' me, doctor,” broke in Miss Phipps, “is what on earth to + give him to sleep in. There may be a nightshirt of father's around in one + of the trunks somewhere, but I doubt it, for I gave away almost everything + of that kind when he died. I suppose he might use one of Primmie's + nightgowns, or mine, but either one would swallow him whole, I'm afraid.” + </p> + <p> + Doctor Powers, catching a glimpse of the expression on his patient's face, + was obliged to wait an instant before venturing to reply. Galusha himself + took advantage of the interval. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why—” he cried, “I—Dear me, dear me, I must have + forgotten it entirely. My suitcase! I—ah—it must be on the + veranda of that hotel. I left it there.” + </p> + <p> + “What hotel? The Restabit Inn?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I—” + </p> + <p> + He got no further. His hostess began issuing orders. A few minutes later, + Primmie, adequately if not beautifully attired in a man's oilskin + “slicker,” sou'wester, and rubber boots, clumped forth in search of the + suitcase. She returned dripping but grinning with the missing property. + Its owner regarded it with profound thankfulness. He could at least retire + for the night robed as a man and a brother. + </p> + <p> + “Everything in there you need, Mr. Bangs?” asked Doctor Powers, briskly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, quite, quite—ah—thank you. But really—” + </p> + <p> + “Then you and I will go aloft, as old Cap'n Jim would have said. Cap'n Jim + Phipps was Miss Martha's father, Mr. Bangs, and there may have been finer + men, but I never met any of 'em. All ready? Good! Here, here, don't hurry! + Take it easy. Those stairs are steep.” + </p> + <p> + They were steep, and narrow as well. Galusha went first but before he + reached the top he was extremely thankful that the sturdy physician was + behind to steady him. Miss Martha called to say that she had left a + lighted lamp in the bedroom. Beyond the fact that the room itself was of + good size Galusha noticed little concerning it, little except the bed, + which was large and patchwork-quilted and tremendously inviting. + </p> + <p> + Doctor Powers briskly helped him to undress. The soaked shoes and + stockings made the physician shake his head. + </p> + <p> + “Your feet are as cold as ice, I suppose, eh?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Why, a trifle chilled, but nothing—really nothing.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Martha called up the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Doctor,” she called, “here's a hot-water bag. I thought probably 'twould + feel comfortable.” + </p> + <p> + Doctor Powers accepted the bag and returned to the room, shaking his head. + </p> + <p> + “That woman's got more sense than a—than a barn full of owls,” he + declared, solemnly. “There, Mr. Bangs, that'll warm up your underpinning. + Anything more you want? All right, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, quite, quite. But really, doctor, I shouldn't permit this. I + feel like a trespasser, like—a—a—” + </p> + <p> + “You feel like going to sleep, that's what I want you to feel like. Lucky + the rain has driven off the fog or the foghorn would keep you awake. It + sounds like the crack of doom down here. Perhaps you noticed it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I did—ah—at least that.” + </p> + <p> + “I shouldn't wonder. Anybody but a graven image would notice the Gould's + Bluffs foghorn. Matches right there by the lamp, in case you want 'em. If + you feel mean in the night sing out; Martha'll hear you and come in. I'll + be on hand in the morning. Good-night, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + He blew out the lamp and departed, closing the door behind him. The rain + poured upon the roof overhead and splashed against the panes of the two + little windows beneath the eaves. Galusha Bangs, warm and dry for the + first time in hours, sank comfortably to sleep. + </p> + <p> + He woke early, at least he felt sure it was early until he looked at his + watch. Then he discovered it was almost nine o'clock. He had had a + wonderful night's rest and he felt quite himself, quite well again, he— + </p> + <p> + Whew! That shoulder WAS a trifle stiff. Yes, and there was a little more + lameness in his ankles and knees than he could have wished. Perhaps, after + all, he would not get up immediately. He would lie there a little longer + and perhaps have the hotel people send up his breakfast, and—Then he + remembered that he was not at the hotel; he was occupying a room in the + house of a total stranger. No doubt they were waiting breakfast for him. + Dear me, dear me! + </p> + <p> + He climbed stiffly out of bed and began to dress. This statement is not + quite correct; he prepared to begin to dress. Just as he reached the + important point where it was time to put something on he made a startling + discovery: His clothes were gone! + </p> + <p> + It was true, they were gone, every last item of them with the unimportant + exceptions of crumpled collar and tie. Galusha looked helplessly about the + room and shivered. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear me!” he cried, aloud. “Oh, dear!” + </p> + <p> + A voice outside his chamber door made answer. + </p> + <p> + “Be you awake, Mr. Bangs?” asked Primmie. “Here's your things. Doctor + Powers he come up and got 'em last night after you'd fell asleep and me + and Miss Martha we hung 'em alongside the kitchen stove. They're dried out + fine. Miss Martha says you ain't to get up, though, till the doctor comes. + I'll leave your things right here on the floor.... Or shall I put 'em + inside?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, no! Don't, don't! I mean put them on the floor—ah—outside. + Thank you, thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Martha said if you was awake to ask you if you felt better.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes—yes, much better, thank you. Thank you—yes.” + </p> + <p> + He waited in some trepidation, until he heard Primmie clump downstairs. + Then he opened the door a crack and retrieved his “things.” They were not + only dry, but clean, and the majority of the wrinkles had been pressed + from his trousers and coat. The mud had even been brushed from his shoes. + Not that Galusha noticed all this just then. He was busy dressing, having + a nervous dread that the unconventional Primmie might find she had + forgotten something and come back to bring it. + </p> + <p> + When he came downstairs there was no one in the sitting room and he had an + opportunity to look about. It was a pleasant apartment, that sitting room, + especially on a morning like this, with the sunshine streaming in through + the eastern windows, windows full of potted plants set upon wire frames, + with hanging baskets of trailing vines and a canary in a cage about them. + There were more plants in the western windows also, for the sitting room + occupied the whole width of the house at that point. The pictures upon the + wall were almost all of the sea, paintings of schooners, and one of the + “Barkentine Hawkeye, of Boston. Captain James Phipps, leaving Surinam, + August 12, 1872.” The only variations from the sea pictures were a + “crayon-enlarged” portrait of a sturdy man with an abundance of unruly + gray hair and a chin beard, and a chromo labeled “Sunset at Niagara + Falls.” The portrait bore sufficient resemblance to Miss Martha Phipps to + warrant Galusha's guess that it was intended to portray her father, the + “Cap'n Jim” of whom the doctor had spoken. The chromo of “Sunset at + Niagara Falls” was remarkable chiefly for its lack of resemblance either + to Niagara or a sunset. + </p> + <p> + He was inspecting this work of art when Miss Phipps entered the room. She + was surprised to see him. + </p> + <p> + “Mercy on us!” she exclaimed. “WHAT in the world are you doin' downstairs + here?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha blushed guiltily and hastened to explain that he was feeling quite + himself, really, and so had, of course, risen and—ah—dressed. + </p> + <p> + “But I do hope, Miss Phipps,” he added, “that I haven't kept you waiting + breakfast. I'm afraid I have.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed at the idea. “Indeed you haven't,” she declared. “If you don't + mind my sayin' so, Mr. Bangs, the angel Gabriel couldn't keep me waitin' + breakfast till half past nine on a Saturday mornin'. Primmie and I were up + at half-past six sharp. That is, I got up then and Primmie was helped up + about five minutes afterward. But what I want to know,” she went on, “is + why you got up at all. Didn't the doctor say you were to stay abed until + he came?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, yes, I believe he did, but you see—you see—” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind. The main thing is that you ARE up and must be pretty nearly + starved. Sit right down, Mr. Bangs. Your breakfast will be ready in two + shakes.” + </p> + <p> + “But Miss Phipps, I wish you wouldn't trouble about my breakfast. I feel—” + </p> + <p> + “I know how you feel; that is, I know how <i>I</i> should feel if I hadn't + eaten a thing but toast-bread since yesterday mornin'. Sit down, Mr. + Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + She hastened from the room. Galusha, the guilty feeling even more + pronounced, sat down as requested. Five minutes afterward she returned to + tell him that breakfast was ready. He followed her to the dining room, + another comfortable, sunshiny apartment, where Primmie, grinning broadly, + served him with oatmeal and boiled eggs and hot biscuits and coffee. He + was eating when Doctor Powers' runabout drove up. + </p> + <p> + The doctor, after scolding his patient for disobeying orders, gave the + said patient a pretty thorough examination. + </p> + <p> + “You are in better shape than you deserve to be,” he said, “but you are + not out of the woods yet. What you need is to gain strength, and that + means a few days' rest and quiet and good food. If your friends, the + Halls, were at their cottage at the Centre I'd take you there, Mr. Bangs, + but they're not. I would take you over to my house, but my wife's sister + and her children are with us and I haven't any place to put you.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha, who had been fidgeting in his chair, interrupted. “Now, Doctor + Powers,” he begged, “please don't think of such a thing. I am quite well + enough to travel.” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, but you are not.” + </p> + <p> + “But you said yourself you would take me to Wellmouth if the Halls were + there.” + </p> + <p> + “I did, but they're not there.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, but there is a hotel there, Mr.—ah—Pulcifer said so.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor and Miss Phipps looked at each other. + </p> + <p> + “He said there was a hotel there,” went on Galusha. “Now if you would be + so kind as to—ah—take me to that hotel—” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Powers rubbed his chin. + </p> + <p> + “I should like to have you under my eye for a day or two,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes, of course. Well, couldn't you motor over and see me + occasionally? It is not so very far, is it?... As to the additional + expense, of course I should expect to reimburse you for that.” + </p> + <p> + Still the physician looked doubtful. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't the expense, exactly, Mr. Bangs,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I promise you I will not attempt to travel until you give your + permission. I realize that I am still—ah—a trifle weak—weak + in the knees,” he added, with his slight smile. “I know you must consider + me to have been weak in the head to begin with, otherwise I shouldn't have + gotten into this scrape.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor laughed, but he still looked doubtful. + </p> + <p> + “The fact is, Mr. Bangs,” he began—and stopped. “The fact is—the + fact—” + </p> + <p> + Martha Phipps finished the sentence for him. + </p> + <p> + “The fact is,” she said, briskly, “that Doctor Powers knows, just as I or + any other sane person in Ostable County knows, that Elmer Rogers' hotel at + the Centre isn't fit to furnish board and lodgin' for a healthy pig, to + say nothin' of a half sick man. You think he hadn't ought to go there, + don't you, doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Martha, to be honest with you—yes. Although I shouldn't want + Elmer to know I said it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you needn't worry; he shan't know as far as I am concerned. Now of + course there's just one sensible thing for Mr. Bangs here to do, and you + know what that is, doctor, as well as I do. Now don't you?” + </p> + <p> + Powers smiled. “Perhaps,” he admitted, “but I'd rather you said it, + Martha.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, I'm goin' to say it. Mr. Bangs,” turning to the nervous + Galusha, “the thing for you to do is to stay right here in this house, + stay right here till you're well enough to go somewhere else.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha rose from his chair. “Oh, really,” he cried, in great agitation, + “I can't do that. I can't, really, Miss Phipps.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I realize you won't be as comfortable here as you would be in a + hotel, in a GOOD hotel—you'd be more comfortable in a pigsty than + you would at Elmer's. But—” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Phipps—Miss Phipps, please! I AM comfortable. You have made me + very comfortable. I think I never slept better in my life than I did last + night. Or ate a better breakfast than this one. But I cannot permit you to + go to this trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “It isn't any trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, I feel that it is. No, doctor, I must go—if not to the + Wellmouth hotel, then somewhere else.” + </p> + <p> + Doctor Powers whistled. Miss Martha looked at Galusha. Galusha, whose + knees were trembling, sat down in the chair again. Suddenly the lady + spoke. + </p> + <p> + “If this was a hotel you would be willin' to stay here, wouldn't you, Mr. + Bangs?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, certainly. But, you see, it—ah—isn't one.” + </p> + <p> + “No, but we might make it one for three or four days. Doctor, what does + Elmer Rogers charge his inmates—his boarders, I mean—a day?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, from three to five dollars, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “Tut, tut, tut! The robber! Well, I presume likely he'd rob Mr. Bangs here + as hard as he'd rob anybody. Mr. Bangs, I take it that what troubles you + mostly is that you don't want to visit a person you've never met until + last night. You've never met Elmer Rogers at all, but you would be + perfectly willin' to visit him if you could pay for the privilege.” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, yes, of course, Miss Phipps. You have been very kind, so + kind that I don't know how to express my gratitude, but I can't accept any + more of your hospitality. To board at a hotel is quite a different thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly it is. I appreciate how you feel. I should probably feel just + the same way. This house of mine isn't a hotel and doesn't pretend to be, + but if you think you can be comfortable here for the next few days and it + will make you feel happier to pay—say, three dollars a day for the + privilege, why—well, I'm satisfied if you are.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha gazed at her in amazement. The doctor slapped his knee. + </p> + <p> + “Splendid!” he exclaimed. “Martha, as usual you've said and done just the + right thing. Now, Mr. Bangs, I'll see you again to-morrow morning. Take + the tablets as directed. You may go out for an hour or so by and by if the + weather is good, but DON'T walk much or get in the least tired. + Good-morning.” + </p> + <p> + He was at the door before his patient realized what he was about. + </p> + <p> + “But, doctor,” cried Galusha, “I—I—really I—Oh, dear!” + </p> + <p> + The door closed. He turned to Miss Phipps in bewildered consternation. She + smiled at him reassuringly. + </p> + <p> + “So THAT'S all settled,” she said. “Now sit right down again, Mr. Bangs, + and finish your breakfast.... Primmie, bring Mr. Bangs some hot coffee. + HOT coffee I said, remember.” + </p> + <p> + Later, perhaps ten minutes later, Galusha ventured another statement. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Phipps,” he said, “I—I—Well, since you insist upon doing + this for me, for a person whom you never met until yesterday, I think the + very least I can do is to tell you who—or—ah—what I am. + Of course if the Halls were here they would vouch for me, but as they are + not, I—Well, in a case of this kind it is—ah—customary, + isn't it, to give references?” + </p> + <p> + “References? As to your bein' able to pay the three dollars a day, do you + mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, perhaps that sort of reference may not be necessary. I shall be + glad to pay each day's board in advance.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what sort of references did you mean, references about your + character?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, yes, something of the sort.” + </p> + <p> + Her eyes twinkled. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bangs,” she asked, “do you really think I ought to have 'em?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha smiled. “For all you know to the contrary,” he said, “I may be a + desperate ruffian.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't look desperate. Do you feel that way?” + </p> + <p> + “Not now, but I did last—ah—evening.” + </p> + <p> + “When you were camped out on that Inn piazza in a pourin' rain, you mean? + I don't blame you for feelin' desperate then.... Well, Mr. Bangs, suppose + we don't worry about the references on either side of this bargain of + ours. I'll take you on trust for the next two or three days, if you'll + take me. And no questions asked, as they say in the advertisements for + stolen property. Will that suit you?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly, except that I think you are taking all the risk. I, certainly, + am not taking any.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum, don't be too sure. You haven't tried much of Primmie's cookin' + yet.... Oh, by the way, what IS your business, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + “I am an archaeologist.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—oh—yes.... A—a what, did you say?” + </p> + <p> + “An archaeologist. I specialize principally in Egyptology.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh.... Oh, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.... Well, I must run out to the kitchen now. Make yourself right at + home, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + Galusha Cabot Bangs' first day in East Wellmouth was spent for the most + part indoors. He was willing that it should he; the stiffness and lameness + in various parts of his body, together with the shakiness at the knees + which he experienced when he tried to walk, warned him that a trip abroad + would not be a judicious undertaking. The doctor having granted him + permission, however, he did go out into the yard for a brief period. + </p> + <p> + Gould's Bluffs and their surroundings were more attractive on this + pleasant October afternoon than on the previous evening. The Phipps house + was a story and a half cottage, of the regulation Cape Cod type, with a + long “L” and sheds connecting it with a barn and chicken yards. The house + was spotlessly white, with blinds conventionally green, as most New + England houses are. There was a white fence shutting it off from the road, + the winding, narrow road which even yet held puddles and pools of mud in + its hollows, souvenirs of the downpour of the night before. Across the + road, perhaps a hundred yards away, was the long, brown—and now of + course bleak—broadside of the Restabit Inn, its veranda looking + lonesome and forsaken even in the brilliant light of day. Behind it and + beyond it were rolling hills, brown and bare, except for the scattered + clumps of beach-plum and bayberry bushes. There were no trees, except a + grove of scrub pine perhaps a mile away. Between the higher hills and over + the tops of the lower ones Galusha caught glimpses of the sea. In the + opposite direction lay a little cluster of roofs, with a church spire + rising above them. He judged this to be East Wellmouth village. + </p> + <p> + The road, leading from the village, wound in and out between the hills, + past the Restabit Inn and the Phipps homestead until it ended at another + clump of buildings; a house, with ells and extensions, several other + buildings and sheds, and a sturdy white and black lighthouse. He was + leaning upon the fence rail peering through his spectacles when Primmie + came up behind him. + </p> + <p> + “That's a lighthouse you're lookin' at, Mr. Bangs,” she observed, with the + air of one imparting valuable information. + </p> + <p> + Galusha started; he had not heard her coming. + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Oh! Yes, so I—ah—surmised,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Hey? What did you do?” + </p> + <p> + “I say I thought it was a lighthouse.” + </p> + <p> + “'Tis. Ever see one afore, have you?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha admitted that he had seen a lighthouse before. “Kind of + interestin' things, ain't they? You know I never realized till I come down + here to live what interestin' things lighthouses was. There's so much TO + 'em, you know, ain't there?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—ah—is there?” + </p> + <p> + “I should say there was. I don't mean the tower part, though that's + interestin' of itself, with them round and round steps—What is it + Miss Martha said folks called 'em? Oh, yes, spinal stairs, that's it. I + never see any spinal stairs till I come here. They don't have 'em up to + North Mashpaug. That's where I used to live, up to North Mashpaug. Ever + been to North Mashpaug, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, a good many folks ain't, far's that goes. Where <i>I</i> lived was + way off in the woods, anyhow. My family was Indian, way back. Not all + Indian, but some, you know; the rest was white, though Pa he used to + cal'late there might be a little Portygee strung along in somewhere. It's + kind of funny to be all mixed up that way, ain't it? Hello, there's Cap'n + Jethro! See him? See him?” + </p> + <p> + Bangs saw the figure of a man emerge from the door of the white house by + the light and stand upon the platform. There was nothing particularly + exciting about the man's appearance, but Primmie seemed to be excited. + </p> + <p> + “See him, Mr. Bangs?” she repeated. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I see him. Who is he?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you know? No, course you don't; why should you? He's Cap'n Jethro + Hallett, keeps the lighthouse, he does—him and Lulie and Zach.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he is the light keeper, is he? What has he got his head tied up for?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? HEAD tied up?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes. Isn't there something gray—a—ah—scarf or + something tied about his head? I think I see it flutter in the wind.” + </p> + <p> + “That? That ain't no scarf, them's his whiskers. He wears 'em long and + they blow consider'ble. Say, what do you think?” Primmie leaned forward + and whispered mysteriously. “He sees his wife.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha turned to look at her. Her expression was a combination of awe and + excitement. + </p> + <p> + “I—I beg your pardon,” he stammered, “but really I—What did + you say he did?” + </p> + <p> + “I said he sees his wife. Anyhow, he thinks he does. She comes to him + nights and stands alongside of his bed and they talk. Ain't that awful?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha took off his spectacles and rubbed them. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't it awful, Mr. Bangs?” repeated Primmie. + </p> + <p> + Galusha's faint smile twitched the corners of his lips. “We-ll,” he + observed, “I—really I can't say. I never met the lady.” + </p> + <p> + “What difference does that make? If a dead woman come and stood alongside + of MY bed 'twouldn't make no difference to me whether I'd MET her or not. + Meetin' of her then would be enough. My Lord of Isrul!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh—oh, I beg your pardon. Do I understand you to say that this—ah—gentleman's + wife is dead?” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Been dead seven year, so Miss Martha says. That's what I mean when + I say it's awful. Wouldn't you think 'twas awful if a woman that had been + dead seven year come and stood alongside of you?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha smiled again. “Yes,” he admitted, “I am inclined to think I—ah—should.” + </p> + <p> + “You bet you would! So'd anybody but Jethro Hallet. He likes it. Yes, sir! + And he goes to every medium place from here to Boston, seems so, so's to + have more talks with them that's over the river.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Over the—Oh, yes, I comprehend. Dead, you mean. Then this Mr. + Hallet is a Spiritualist, I take it.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Rankest kind of a one. Course everybody believes in Spiritulism + SOME, can't help it. Miss Martha says she don't much and Zach Bloomer he + says he cal'lates his doubts keep so close astern of his beliefs that it's + hard to tell which'll round the stake boat first. But there ain't no doubt + about Cap'n Jethro's believin', he's rank.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. Well, is he—is he rational in other ways? It seems odd to + have a—ah—an insane man in charge of—” + </p> + <p> + “Insane? My savin' soul, what put that idea in your head? He ain't crazy, + Jethro Hallet ain't. He's smart. Wuth consider'ble money, so they say, and + hangs on to it, too. Used to be cap'n of a four-masted schooner, till he + hurt his back and had to stay ashore. His back's got to hurtin' him worse + lately and Zach and Miss Martha they cal'late that's why Lulie give up her + teachin' school up to Ostable and come down here to live along with him. I + heard 'em talkin' about it t'other day and that's what they cal'late. Miss + Martha she thinks a sight of Lulie.” + </p> + <p> + “And—ah—this Miss Lulie is the light keeper's daughter?” Bangs + was not especially interested in the Hallett family, but he found Primmie + amusing. + </p> + <p> + “Uh-hm. All the child he's got. Some diff'rent from our tribe; there was + thirteen young ones in our family. Pa used to say he didn't care long's we + didn't get so thick he'd step on ary one of us. He didn't care about a + good many things, Pa didn't. Ma had to do the carin' and most of the work, + too. Yes, Lulie's Jethro's daughter and he just bows down and worships + her.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. I see. And is—ah—Miss Hallett as spookily inclined as + her parent?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey?” + </p> + <p> + “Is she a Spiritualist, too?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no. Course she don't say much on her pa's account, but Zach says she + don't take no stock in it. Lulie has to be pretty careful, 'cause ever + since Cap'n Jethro found out about Nelse he—Hey? Yes'm, I'm + a-comin'.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phipps had called to her from the kitchen door. Galusha stood by the + fence a while longer. Then he went in to supper. Before he went to his + room that night he asked his landlady a question. + </p> + <p> + “That—ah—maid of yours has a peculiar name, hasn't she?” he + observed. “Primmie. I think I never heard it before.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Martha laughed. + </p> + <p> + “I should say it was peculiar!” she exclaimed. “Her Christian name is + Primrose, if you can call such a name Christian. I almost died when I + heard it first. She's a queer blossom, Primmie is, a little too much tar + in her upper riggin', as father used to say, but faithful and willin' as a + person could be. I put up with her tongue and her—queerness on that + account. Some friends of mine over at Falmouth sent her to me; they knew I + needed somebody in the house after father died. Her name is Primrose + Annabel Cash and she comes from a nest of such sort of folks in the + Mashpaug woods. She provokes me sometimes, but I have a good deal of fun + with her on the whole. You ought to see her and Zacheus Bloomer together + and hear 'em talk; THEN you would think it was funny.” + </p> + <p> + “Is this Mr.—ah—Bloomer queer also?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, I presume likely he is. Not foolish, you understand, or even a + little bit soft like Primmie. He's shrewd enough, Zach is, but he's + peculiar, that's about it. Has a queer way of talkin' and walkin'—yes, + and thinkin'. He's put in the most of his life in out-of-the-way places, + boat-fishin' all alone off on the cod banks, or attendin' to lobster pots + way down in the South Channel, or aboard lightships two miles from + nowhere. That's enough to make any man queer, bein' off by himself so. + Why, this place of assistant light keeper here at Gould's Bluffs is the + most sociable job Zach Bloomer has had for ten years, I shouldn't wonder. + And Gould's Bluffs isn't Washington Street, exactly,” she added, with a + smile. + </p> + <p> + “Have you lived here long, Miss Phipps?” inquired Galusha. + </p> + <p> + “Pretty nearly all my life, and that's long enough, goodness knows. Father + bought this place in 1893, I think it was. He was goin' coastin' voyages + then. Mother died in 1900 and he gave up goin' to sea that year. He and I + lived here together until two years ago next August; then he died. I have + been here since, with Primmie to help. I suppose likely I shall stay here + now until I die—or dry up with old age and blow away, or somethin'. + That is, I shall stay provided I—I can.” + </p> + <p> + There was a change in her tone as she spoke the last words. Galusha, + glancing up, saw that she was gazing out of the window. He waited for her + to go on, but she did not. He looked out of the window also, but there was + nothing to be seen, nothing except the fields and hills, cold and bleak in + the gathering dusk. After an interval she stirred and rose from her chair. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, well,” she said, with a shrug, and a return to her usual brisk + manner, “there isn't a bit of use in makin' today to-morrow, is there, Mr. + Bangs? And today's been nice and pleasant, and they can't take it from + us.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha looked very much surprised. “Why, dear me, dear me!” he exclaimed. + “That's extremely odd, now really.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, your—ah—remark about making to-day to-morrow. Almost + precisely the same thing was said to me at one time by another person. It + is quite extraordinary.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not so very, I guess. A million folks must have thought it and said + it since Adam. Who said it to you, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + “A—ah—person in Abyssinia. He had stolen my—ah—shirt + and I warned him that he should be punished on the following day. He + laughed and I asked him what there was to laugh at. Then he made the + remark about to-morrow's being afar off and that today the sun shone, or + words to that effect. It seems strange that you should say it. Quite a + coincidence, Miss Phipps, don't you think so?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, I suppose you might call it that. But WHAT did you say + this man had stolen?” + </p> + <p> + “My—ah—shirt. I had another, of course; in fact I was wearing + it, but the one he took was the only whole one remaining in my kit. I was + quite provoked.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think you might have been. What sort of creature was he, for + goodness sakes?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he was an Arab camel driver. A very good man, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he must have been. Did you get your shirt back?” + </p> + <p> + “No—ah—no. The fact is, he had put it on and—as he was + rather—well, soiled, so to speak, I let him keep it. And he really + was a very good man, I mean a good camel driver.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Martha regarded her guest thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Where did you say this was, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + “In the Abyssinian desert. We were there at the time.” + </p> + <p> + “Abyssinia? Abyssinia? That's in Africa, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, northern Africa.” + </p> + <p> + “Mercy me, that's a long way off.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not so very, when one becomes accustomed to the journey. The first + time I found it rather tiring, but not afterward.” + </p> + <p> + “Not afterward. You mean you've been there more than once?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—ah—yes. Three times.” + </p> + <p> + “But why in the world do you go to such an outlandish place as that three + times?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, on research work, connected with my—ah—profession. There + are some very interesting remains in that section.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you say your business—your profession was, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + “I am an archaeologist, Miss Phipps.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + He went to his room soon afterwards. Martha went into the dining room. A + suspicious rustle as she turned the door knob caused her to frown. Primmie + was seated close to the wall on the opposite side of the room + industriously peeling apples. Her mistress regarded her intently, a regard + which caused its object to squirm in her chair. + </p> + <p> + “It's—it's a kind of nice night, ain't it, Miss Martha?” she + observed. + </p> + <p> + Miss Martha did not answer. “Primmie Cash,” she said, severely, “you've + been listen in' again. Don't deny it.” + </p> + <p> + “Now—now Miss Martha, I didn't mean to, really, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Do you want to go back to the Mashpaug poorhouse again?” + </p> + <p> + “No'm. You know I don't, Miss Martha. I didn't mean to do it, but I heard + him talkin' and it was SO interestin'. That about the camel stealin' his + shirt—my soul! And—” + </p> + <p> + “If you listen again I WILL send you back; I mean it.” + </p> + <p> + “I won't, ma'am. I won't. Now—” + </p> + <p> + “Be still. Where is our dictionary? It isn't in the closet with the other + books where it ought to be. Do you know where it is?” + </p> + <p> + “No'm.... Yes'm, come to think of it, I do. Lulie Hallet borrowed it the + other day. Her and Zach Bloomer was havin' a lot of talk about how to + spell somethin' and Lulie she got our dictionary so's to settle it—and + Zach. I'll fetch it back to-morrow mornin'.... But what do you want the + dictionary for, Miss Martha?” + </p> + <p> + Martha shook her head, with the air of one annoyed by a puzzle the answer + to which should be familiar. + </p> + <p> + “I'm goin' to find out what an archaeologist is,” she declared. “I ought + to know, but I declare I don't.” + </p> + <p> + “An arky-what? Oh, that's what that little Mr. Bangs said he was, didn't + he? You know what <i>I</i> think he is, Miss Martha?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't. You go to bed, Primmie.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</i> think he's an undertaker.” + </p> + <p> + “Undertaker! Good heavens and earth, what put that in your head?” + </p> + <p> + “Everything. Look at them clothes he wears, black tail-coat and white + shirt and stand-up collar and all. Just exactly same as Emulous Dodd wears + when he's runnin' a funeral. Yes, and more'n that—more'n that, Miss + Martha. Didn't you hear what he said just now about 'remains'?” + </p> + <p> + “WHAT?” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't you ask him what he went traipsin' off to that—that camel + place for? And didn't he say there was some interestin' remains there. + Uh-hm! that's what he said—'remains.' If he ain't an undertaker what—” + </p> + <p> + Martha burst out laughing. “Primmie,” she said, “go to bed. And don't + forget to get that dictionary to-morrow mornin'.” + </p> + <p> + The next day was Sunday and the weather still fine. Galusha Bangs was by + this time feeling very much stronger. Miss Phipps commented upon his + appearance at breakfast time. + </p> + <p> + “I declare,” she exclaimed, “you look as if you'd really had a good + night's rest, Mr. Bangs. Now you'll have another biscuit and another egg, + won't you?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha, who had already eaten one egg and two biscuits, was obliged to + decline. His hostess seemed to think his appetite still asleep. + </p> + <p> + After breakfast he went out for a walk. There was a brisk, cool wind + blowing and Miss Martha cautioned him against catching cold. She insisted + upon his wrapping a scarf of her own, muffler fashion, about his neck + beneath his coat collar and lent him a pair of mittens—they were + Primmie's property—to put on in case his hands were cold. He had one + kid glove in his pocket, but only one. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me!” he said. “I can't think what became of the other. I'm quite + certain I had two to begin with.” + </p> + <p> + Martha laughed. “I'm certain of that myself,” she said. “I never heard of + anybody's buying gloves one at a time.” + </p> + <p> + Her guest smiled. “It might be well for me to buy them that way,” he + observed. “My brain doesn't seem equal to the strain of taking care of + more than one.” + </p> + <p> + Primmie and her mistress watched him from the window as he meandered out + of the yard. Primmie made the first remark. + </p> + <p> + “There now, Miss Martha,” she said, “DON'T he look like an undertaker? + Them black clothes and that standin' collar and—and—the kind + of still way he walks—and talks. Wouldn't you expect him to be + sayin': 'The friends of the diseased will now have a chanct to—'” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, be still, Primmie, for mercy sakes!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm. What thin little legs he's got, ain't he?” Miss Phipps did not + reply to her housemaid's criticism of the Bangs limbs. Instead, she made + an observation of her own. + </p> + <p> + “Where in the world did he get that ugly, brown, stiff hat?” she demanded. + “It doesn't look like anything that ever grew on land or sea.” + </p> + <p> + Primmie hitched up her apron strings, a habit she had. + </p> + <p> + “'Twould have been a better job,” she observed, “if that camel thing he + was tellin' you about had stole that hat instead of his other shirt. Don't + you think so, Miss Martha?” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Galusha, ignorant of the comments concerning his appearance, was + strolling blithely along the road. His first idea had been to visit the + lighthouse, his next to walk to the village. He had gone but a short + distance, however, when another road branching off to the right suggested + itself as a compromise. He took the branch road. + </p> + <p> + It wound in and out among the little hills which he had noticed from the + windows and from the yard of the Phipps' house. It led past a little pond, + hidden between two of those hills. Then it led to the top of another hill, + the highest so far, and from that point Galusha paused to look about him. + </p> + <p> + From the hilltop the view was much the same, but more extensive. The ocean + filled the whole eastern horizon, a shimmering, moving expanse of blue and + white, with lateral stretches of light and dark green. To the south were + higher hills, thickly wooded. Between his own hill and those others was a + small grove of pines and, partially hidden by it, a weather-beaten + building with a steeple, its upper half broken off. The building, Galusha + guessed, was an abandoned church. Now an old church in the country + suggested, naturally, an old churchyard. Toward the building with half a + steeple Mr. Bangs started forthwith. + </p> + <p> + There WAS a churchyard, an ancient, grass-grown burying ground, with slate + gravestones and weather-worn tombs. There were a few new stones, gleaming + white and conspicuous, but only a few. Galusha's trained eye, trained by + his unusual pastime of college days, saw at once that the oldest stones + must date from early colonial times. Very likely there might be some odd + variations of the conventional carvings, almost certainly some quaint and + interesting inscriptions. It would, of course, be but tame sport for one + of the world's leading Egyptologists, but to Galusha Cabot Bangs research + was research, and while some varieties were better than others, none was + bad. A moment later he was on his knees before the nearest gravestone. It + was an old stone and the inscription and carving were interesting. Time + paused there and then for Galusha. + </p> + <p> + What brought him from the dead past to the living present was the fact + that his hat blew off. The particular stone which he was examining at the + moment was on the top of a little knoll and, as Galusha clambered up and + stooped, the breeze, which had increased in force until it was a young + gale, caught the brown derby beneath its brim and sent it flying. He + scrambled after it, but it dodged his clutch and rolled and bounded on. He + bounded also, but the hat gained. It caught for an instant on the weather + side of a tombstone, but just as he was about to pick it up, a fresh gust + sent it sailing over the obstacle. It was dashed against the side of the + old church and then carried around the end of the building and out of + sight. Its owner plunged after it and, a moment later, found himself at + the foot of a grass-covered bank, a good deal disheveled and very much + surprised. Also, close at hand some one screamed, in a feminine voice, and + another voice, this one masculine, uttered an emphatically masculine + exclamation. + </p> + <p> + Galusha sat up. The old church was placed upon a side-hill, its rear + toward the cemetery which he had just been exploring, and its front door + on a level at least six feet lower. He, in his wild dash after the brown + derby, had not noticed this and, rushing around the corner, had been + precipitated down the bank. He was not hurt, but he was rumpled and + astonished. No more astonished, however, than were the young couple who + had been sitting upon the church steps and were now standing, staring down + at him. + </p> + <p> + Galusha spoke first. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear!” he observed. “Dear me!” Then he added, by way of making the + situation quite clear, “I must have fallen, I think.” + </p> + <p> + Neither of the pair upon the church steps seemed to have recovered + sufficiently to speak, so Mr. Bangs went on. + </p> + <p> + “I—I came after my hat,” he explained. “You see—Oh, there it + is!” + </p> + <p> + The brown derby was stuck fast in the bare branches of an ancient lilac + bush which some worshiper of former time had planted by the church door. + Galusha rose and limped over to rescue his truant property. + </p> + <p> + “It blew off,” he began, but the masculine half of the pair who had + witnessed his flight from the top to the bottom of the bank, came forward. + He was a dark-haired young man, with a sunburned, pleasant face. + </p> + <p> + “Say, that was a tumble!” he declared. “I hope you didn't hurt yourself. + No bones broken, or anything like that?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha shook his head. “No-o,” he replied, somewhat doubtfully. “No, I + think not. But, dear me, what a foolish thing for me to do!” + </p> + <p> + The young man spoke again. + </p> + <p> + “Sure you're not hurt?” he asked. “Let me brush you off; you picked up a + little mud on the way down.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha looked at the knees of his trousers. + </p> + <p> + “So I did, so I did,” he said. “I don't remember striking at all on the + way, but I could scarcely have accumulated all that at the bottom. Thank + you, thank you!... Why, dear me, your face is quite familiar! Haven't we + met before?” + </p> + <p> + The young fellow smiled. “I guess we have,” he said. “I put you aboard + Lovetts' express wagon Friday afternoon and started you for Wellmouth + Centre. I didn't expect to see you over here in East Wellmouth.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha adjusted his spectacles—fortunately they were not broken—and + looked at the speaker. + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course!” he cried. “You are the young man who was so kind to me + when I got off at the wrong station. You are the station man at—ah—at + South Wellmouth, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “That's right.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me! Dear me! Well, I don't wonder you were surprised to have me—ah—alight + at your feet just now. We-ll,” with his quiet smile, “I seem to have a + habit of making unexpected appearances. I surprised Miss Phipps on Friday + evening almost as greatly.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Phipps? Martha Phipps, Cap'n Jim's daughter; lives over here by the + light, do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, yes her name is Martha, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “But how in the world did you get—” + </p> + <p> + His companion interrupted him. “Why, Nelson,” she cried, “he must be the + one—the man who is staying at Martha's. Don't you know I told you + Primmie said there was some one there who was sick?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha looked at her. She was young, not more than nineteen or twenty, + slender, brown-haired and pretty. The young man spoke again. + </p> + <p> + “But Lulie,” he said, “he isn't sick. You aren't sick, are you?” + addressing Galusha. + </p> + <p> + “My health has not been good of late,” replied the latter, “and after my + long walk on Friday evening I was rather done up. But I'm not ill at + present, although,” with a return of his faint smile, “I probably shall be + if I continue to—ah—fly, as I did just now.” + </p> + <p> + The young woman broke into an irresistible trill of laughter. The South + Wellmouth station agent joined her. Galusha smiled in a fatherly fashion + upon them both. + </p> + <p> + “I had quite a series of adventures after leaving you,” he went on. “Quite + a series—yes.” + </p> + <p> + He told briefly of his losing his way, of his meeting with Raish Pulcifer, + of his tramp in the rain, and of his collapse in the Phipps' sitting room. + </p> + <p> + “So that is—ah—my Odyssey,” he concluded. “You see, we—ah—I + beg your pardon, but I don't know that I learned your name when we met the + other day. Mine is Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Bangs. My name is Howard—Nelson Howard. + And this is—” + </p> + <p> + He paused. The young woman was regarding him in a troubled way. + </p> + <p> + “Nelson,” she said, “don't you think, perhaps, we had better not—” + </p> + <p> + They were both embarrassed. Galusha noticed the embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me! Dear me!” he said, hastily. “Please don't trouble. Ah—good-morning. + I must go—really—yes.” + </p> + <p> + He was on his way toward the bank, but the young woman called his name. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bangs,” she said. + </p> + <p> + He turned. “Did you—did you wish to speak to me?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, yes, I—Mr. Bangs, I—I want to ask a favor of + you. I know, Nelson, but what is the use, after all? We've done nothing to + be ashamed of. Mr. Bangs, my name is Hallett. My father is the keeper of + the lighthouse.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha bowed. He had guessed her identity. Primmie had spoken of Lulie + Hallett in their conversation by the fence the day before. + </p> + <p> + “I am Lulie Hallett,” she went on, “and—and Mr. Howard and I are—are—” + </p> + <p> + “We're engaged to be married,” broke in Howard. “The fact is, Mr. Bangs, I + came over on my bicycle this morning to meet Lulie here where—where + no one would see us. You see—well, Cap'n Jethro—her father, + you know—is prejudiced against me and—and so to save her + trouble and—and unpleasantness we—well, we—” + </p> + <p> + He was red and confused and stammering. Galusha was almost as much + embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh—oh, all right—ah—dear me, yes, of course,” he said, + hastily. “I am very sorry I—I interrupted. I beg your pardon. Ah—good-morning.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Mr. Bangs,” Lulie pleaded, earnestly, “you won't misunderstand this, + will you? We meet in this way on my father's account. He is—you see, + he is not very well, and rather prejudiced and—and stubborn, I'm + afraid. Please don't think that—that—” + </p> + <p> + “Of course he won't,” declared Howard. “Mr. Bangs won't think anything + that he shouldn't.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no—no,” stammered Galusha, nervously. “I am—I am SO sorry + I interrupted. I BEG your pardon.” + </p> + <p> + “And Mr. Bangs,” said Lulie, again, “I wonder if you will be kind enough + not to tell any one you saw us? This is a small place, East Wellmouth, and + people do talk—oh, dreadfully. If it got to father's ears he—PLEASE + don't speak of it, will you, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no; no, indeed, Miss Hallett. You may depend upon me.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall tell Martha Phipps myself the next time I see her. She is my best + friend, except—” with a becoming blush—“Nelson, and father, of + course—and she understands. I never have any secrets from her.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha began to climb the bank. As his head rose above its upper edge he + stopped. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—dear me, there's some one coming in this direction,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Howard started forward. “Coming? Coming here?” he cried. He sprang up the + bank beside Mr. Bangs and peered over its top. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, confound it!” he exclaimed. “Lulie, it's your father.” + </p> + <p> + “Father? Coming here? Why, he started for church. He never comes to the + cemetery on Sunday MORNING.” + </p> + <p> + “I can't help it, he's coming now. And there's some one with him, or + coming after him. It looks like—Yes, it's Raish Pulcifer.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Hallett was very much distressed. “Oh, dear, dear, dear!” she cried. + “If father finds us there will be another dreadful time. And I wouldn't + have Raish Pulcifer see and hear it, of all people in the world. Oh, WHAT + made father come? Nelson, can't we run away before he gets here? Into the + pines, or somewhere?” + </p> + <p> + “No chance, Lulie. He would see us sure. If he should stop at the other + end of the cemetery it might give us a chance, but he probably won't. + He'll come to your mother's grave and that is close by here. Oh, hang the + luck!” + </p> + <p> + Galusha looked at the young people; he was almost as distressed as they + were. He liked young Howard; the latter had been very kind to him on the + fateful Friday afternoon when he had alighted at South Wellmouth. He liked + Lulie, also—had fancied her at first sight. He wished he might help + them. And then he had an idea. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't—ah—interfere in your affairs for the world, Miss + Hallett,” he faltered, “but if I might—ah—offer a suggestion, + suppose I—ah—meet your father and talk with him for a few + moments. Then you might—so to speak—ah—go, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, of course, of course. Oh, WILL you, Mr. Bangs? Thank you so much.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha climbed the bank. There was no one in sight, but he heard + masculine voices from the hollow beyond the farther end of the cemetery. + He hastened to that end and, stooping, began to examine the inscription + upon a tomb. + </p> + <p> + The voices drew nearer as the men climbed the hill. The breeze now was + stronger than ever and was blowing more from the west. The conversation, + borne by the gusts, came to Galusha's ears clearly and distinctly. One of + the speakers seemed to be explaining, urging, the other peremptorily + refusing to listen. + </p> + <p> + “But, Cap'n Jeth,” urged the first voice, and Mr. Bangs recognized it as + belonging to his obliging guide and pilot of the fateful Friday evening, + Mr. Horatio Pulcifer. “But, Cap'n Jeth,” said Mr. Pulcifer, “don't fly off + the handle for nothin'. I ain't tryin' to put nothin' over on you. I'm + just—” + </p> + <p> + “I don't want to hear you,” broke in the second voice, gruffly. “This is + the Lord's Day and I don't want to talk business with you or nobody else—especially + with you.” + </p> + <p> + For some reason this seemed to irritate Mr. Pulcifer. His tone had lost a + little of its urbanity when he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, especially with me, eh?” he repeated. “Well, what's the 'especially + with me' for? If you think I'm any more to blame than the rest, you're + mistaken. I tell you when you and me and Cap'n Jim and all hands of us got + the Wellmouth Development Company goin' it looked like a cinch. How was I + to know?” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you, Raish, I don't want to talk about it.” + </p> + <p> + “And I tell you, Jeth Hallett, I DO want to. You've hove in that + 'especially with me' and I don't like it. Look here, what are you pickin' + on me for? How was I to—No, now you wait a minute, Cap'n Jeth, and + answer me. I've chased you 'way over here and you can give me five minutes + even if 'tis Sunday. Come, Cap'n, come, just answer me and then I won't + bother you any more.” + </p> + <p> + There was silence for a brief interval. Galusha, crouching behind the tomb + and wondering if the time had come for him to show himself, waited + anxiously. But Captain Hallett's answer, when at last he did reply, + sounded no nearer. Apparently the men were now standing still. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” grunted the light keeper, “I'll listen to you for the five + minutes, Raish, but no more. I hadn't ought to do that. This is Sabbath + day and I make it a p'int never—” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” hastily, “I know. Well, I tell you, Cap'n Jeth, all's I wanted + to say was this: What are we goin' to do with this Development stock of + ours?” + </p> + <p> + “Do with it? Why, nothin' at present. CAN'T do anything with it, can we? + All we can do is wait. It may be one year or three, but some day somebody + will have to come to us. There ain't a better place for a cold storage + fish house on this coast and the Wellmouth Development Company owns that + place.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that's so, that's so. But some of us can afford to wait and some + can't. Now I've got more of the Development Company stock than anybody + else. I've got five hundred shares, Cap'n Jeth; five hundred shares at + twenty dollars a share. A poor man like me can't afford to have ten + thousand dollars tied up as long's this is liable to be. Can he now? Eh? + Can he, Cap'n?” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Well, I've got eight thousand tied up there myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye-es, but it don't make so much difference to you. You can afford to + wait. You've got a gov'ment job.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye-es, and from what I hear you may be havin' a state job pretty soon + yourself, Raish. Well, never mind that. What is it you're drivin' at, + anyhow?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I tell you, Jeth. Course you know and I know that this is a + perfectly sure investment to anybody that'll wait. I can't afford to wait, + that's what's the matter. It kind of run acrost my mind that maybe you'd + like to have my holdin's, my five hundred shares. I'll sell 'em to you + reasonable.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! I want to know! What do you call reasonable?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll sell 'em to you for—for—well, say nineteen dollars a + share.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Don't bother me any more, Raish.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, say eighteen dollars a share. Lord sakes, that's reasonable enough, + ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Cruise along towards home, Raish. I've talked all the business I want to + on Sunday. Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Jethro, I—I'm hard up, I'm desp'rate, pretty nigh. I'll + let you have my five hundred shares of Wellmouth Development Company for + just half what I paid for it—ten dollars a share. If you wasn't my + friend, I wouldn't—What are you laughin' at?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha Bangs, hiding behind the tomb, understanding nothing of this + conversation, yet feeling like an eavesdropper, wished this provoking pair + would stop talking and go away. He heard the light keeper laugh + sardonically. + </p> + <p> + “Ho, ho, ho,” chuckled Hallett. “You're a slick article, ain't you, Raish? + Why, you wooden-headed swab, did you cal'late you was the only one that + had heard about the directors' meetin' over to the Denboro Trust Company + yesterday? <i>I</i> knew the Trust Company folks had decided not to go + ahead with the fish storage business just as well as you did, and I heard + it just as soon, too. <i>I</i> know they've decided to put the twelve + hundred shares of Wellmouth Development stock into profit and loss, or to + just hang on and see if it ever does come to anything. But you cal'lated I + didn't know it and that maybe you could unload your five hundred shares on + to me at cut rates, eh? Raish, you're slick—but you ain't bright, + not very.” + </p> + <p> + He chuckled again. Mr. Pulcifer whistled, apparently expressing + resignation. + </p> + <p> + “ALL right, Cap'n,” he observed, cheerfully, “just as you say. No harm in + tryin', was there? Never catch a fish without heavin' over a hook, as the + feller said. Maybe somebody else that ain't heard will buy that stock, you + can't tell.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe so, but—See here, Raish, don't you go tryin' anything like + this on—on—” + </p> + <p> + “I know who you mean. No danger. There ain't money enough there to buy + anything, if what I hear's true.” + </p> + <p> + “What's that?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothin', nothin'. Just talk, I guess. Well, Jeth, I won't keep you + any longer. Goin' to hang on to YOUR four hundred Development stock, I + presume likely?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I shall sell that at a profit. Not a big profit, but a profit.” + </p> + <p> + “Sho! Is that so? Who told you?” + </p> + <p> + “It was,” the gruff voice became solemn, “it was revealed to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Revealed to you? Oh, from up yonder, up aloft, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Raish,” sharply, “don't you dare be sacrilegious in my presence.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, not for nothin', Cap'n. So you had a message from the sperit + world about that stock, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. It bade me be of good cheer and hold for a small profit. When that + profit comes, no matter how small it may be, I'll sell and sell quick, but + not sooner.... But there, I've profaned the Lord's day long enough. I came + over here this mornin' to visit Julia's grave. There was a scoffer in our + pulpit, that young whippersnapper from Wapatomac had exchanged with our + minister and I didn't care to hear him.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see. So you come over to your wife's grave, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. What are you lookin' like that for?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothin'. I thought maybe you was chasin' after Lulie. I see her + meanderin' over this way a little while ago.” + </p> + <p> + “LULIE?” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Looked like her.” + </p> + <p> + “Was there—was there anybody else?” + </p> + <p> + “We-ll, I wouldn't swear to that, Cap'n Jeth. I didn't SEE nobody, but—Godfreys + mighty! What's that thing?” + </p> + <p> + The thing was the brown derby. Galusha, crouching behind the tomb, had + been holding it fast to his head with one hand. Now, startled by + Pulcifer's statement that he had seen Miss Hallett, he let go his hold. + And a playful gust lifted the hat from his head, whirled it like an aerial + teetotum and sent it rolling and tumbling to the feet of the pair by the + cemetery gate. + </p> + <p> + Jethro Hallett jumped aside. + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord! What is it?” he shouted. + </p> + <p> + “It's a—a hat, ain't it?” cried Raish. + </p> + <p> + From around the tomb hastened Mr. Bangs. + </p> + <p> + “Will you gentlemen be good enough to—to stop that hat for me?” he + asked, anxiously. + </p> + <p> + The light keeper and his companion started at the apparition in speechless + astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “It's—it's my hat,” explained Galusha. “If you will be kind enough + to pick it up before—Oh, DEAR me! There it GOES! Stop it, stop it!” + </p> + <p> + Another gust had set the hat rolling again. Captain Jethro made a grab at + it but his attempt only lifted it higher into the air, where the wind + caught it underneath and sent it soaring. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear!” piped the exasperated Galusha, and ran after it. + </p> + <p> + “Who in tunket IS he?” demanded Jethro. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pulcifer gazed at the thin little figure hopping after the hat. The + light of recognition dawned in his face. + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</i> know who he is!” he exclaimed. “I fetched him over t'other night + in my car. But what in blazes is he doin' here NOW?... Hi, look out, + Mister! Don't let it blow that way. If you do you'll—Head it OFF!” + </p> + <p> + The hat was following an air line due east. Galusha was following a + terrestrial route in the same direction. Now Raish followed Galusha and + after him rolled Captain Jethro Hallett. As they say in hunting stories, + the chase was on. + </p> + <p> + It was not a long chase, of course. It ended unexpectedly—unexpectedly + for Galusha, that is—at a point where a spur of the pine grove + jutted out upon the crest of a little hill beyond the eastern border of + the cemetery. The hat rolled, bounced, dipped and soared up the hill and + just clear of the branches of the endmost pine. Then it disappeared from + sight. Its owner breathlessly panted after it. He reached the crest of the + little hill and stopped short—stopped for the very good reason that + he could go no further. + </p> + <p> + The hill was but half a hill. Its other half, the half invisible from the + churchyard, was a sheer sand and clay bluff dropping at a dizzy angle down + to the beach a hundred and thirty feet below. This beach was the shore of + a pretty little harbor, fed by a stream which flowed into it from the + southwest. On the opposite side of the stream was another stretch of + beach, more sand bluffs, pines and scrub oaks. To the east the little + harbor opened a clear channel between lines of creaming breakers to the + deep blue and green of the ocean. + </p> + <p> + Galusha Bangs saw most of this in detail upon subsequent visits. Just now + he looked first for his hat. He saw it. Below, upon the sand of the beach, + a round object bounced and rolled. As he gazed a gust whirled along the + shore and pitched the brown object into the sparkling waters of the little + harbor. It splashed, floated and then sailed jauntily out upon the tide. + The brown derby had started on its last voyage. + </p> + <p> + Galusha gazed down at his lost headgear. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. + Then he turned and looked back toward the hollow by the front door of the + old church. From the knoll where he stood he could see every inch of that + hollow and it was untenanted. There was no sign of either human being or + of a bicycle belonging to a human being. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs sighed thankfully. The sacrifice of the brown derby had not been + in vain. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + An hour or so later when Martha Phipps, looking out of her dining room + window, saw her boarder enter the front gate, his personal appearance + caused her to utter a startled exclamation. Primmie came running from the + kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter, Miss Martha?” she demanded. “Eh! My savin' soul!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs' head was enveloped in the scarf which his hostess had lent him + when he set forth upon his walk. It—the scarf—was tied under + his chin and the fringed ends flapped in the wind. His round face, + surrounded by the yarn folds, looked like that of the small boy in the + pictures advertising somebody-or-other's toothache cure. + </p> + <p> + “My savin' soul!” cried Primmie, again. She was rushing to the door, but + her mistress intervened. + </p> + <p> + “Primmie,” she ordered, briskly, “stay where you are!” + </p> + <p> + She opened the door herself. + </p> + <p> + “Come right in, Mr. Bangs,” she said. “No, don't stop to tell me about it, + but come right in and sit down.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha looked up at her. His face was speckled with greenish brown spots, + giving it the appearance of a mammoth bird's egg. Primmie saw the spots + and squealed. + </p> + <p> + “Lord of Isrul!” she cried, “he's all broke out with it, whatever 'tis! + Shall I—shall I 'phone for the doctor, Miss Martha?” + </p> + <p> + “Be still, Primmie. Come in, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, thank you. I—ah—WAS coming in,” began Galusha, + mildly. “I—” + </p> + <p> + “You mustn't talk. Sit right down here on the lounge. Primmie, get that + rum bottle. Don't talk, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + “But, really, Miss Phipps, I—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't TALK.... There, drink that.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha obediently drank the rum. Martha tenderly untied the scarf. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me if it hurts,” she said. Her patient looked at her in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, it—ah—it is very nice,” he said. “I—ah—quite + like the taste, really.” + </p> + <p> + “Heavens and earth, I don't mean the rum. I hope that won't HURT anybody, + to say the least. I mean—Why, there isn't anything the matter with + it!” + </p> + <p> + “Matter with it? I don't quite—” + </p> + <p> + “Matter with your head.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha raised a hand in bewildered fashion and felt of his cranium. + </p> + <p> + “Why—ah—no, there is nothing the matter with my head, so far + as I am aware,” he replied. “Does it look as if it were—ah—softening + or something?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Martha ignored the pleasantry. “What have you got it tied up for?” + she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Tied up?” Galusha's smile broadened. “Oh, I see,” he observed. “Well, I + lost my hat. It blew off into the—ah—sea. It was rather too + cold to be about bareheaded, so I used the scarf you so kindly lent me.” + </p> + <p> + Martha gazed at him for an instant and then burst into a hearty laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Mercy on me!” she cried. “WHAT an idiot I am! When I saw you come into + the yard with your head bandaged—at least I thought it was bandaged—and + your face—But what IS the matter with your face?” + </p> + <p> + “My face? Why, nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! It's a sight to see. You look the way Erastus Beebe's boy did + when the cannon-cracker went off too soon. Primmie, hand me that little + lookin'-glass.” + </p> + <p> + Primmie snatched the small mirror from the wall. + </p> + <p> + “See, Mr. Bangs,” she cried, holding the mirror an inch from his nose. + “Look at yourself. You're all broke out with a crash—rash, I mean. + Ain't he, Miss Martha?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha regarded his reflection in the mirror with astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I—I seem to be—ah—polka-dotted,” he said. “I never + saw anything so—Dear me, dear me!” + </p> + <p> + He drew his fingers down his cheek. The speckles promptly became streaks. + He smiled in relief. + </p> + <p> + “I see, I see,” he said. “It is the lichen.” + </p> + <p> + This explanation was not as satisfying as he evidently meant it to be. + Martha looked more puzzled than ever. Primmie looked frightened. + </p> + <p> + “WHAT did he say 'twas?” she whispered. “'Tain't catchin', is it, Miss + Martha?” + </p> + <p> + “It is the lichen from the tombstones,” went on Galusha. “Most of them + were covered with it. In order to read the inscriptions I was obliged to + scrape it off with my pocketknife, and the particles must have blown in my + face and—ah—adhered. Perhaps—ah—some soap and + water might improve my personal appearance, Miss Phipps. If you will + excuse me I think I will try the experiment.” + </p> + <p> + He rose briskly from the sofa. Primmie stared at him open-mouthed. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't there NOTHIN' the matter with you, Mr. Bangs?” she asked. “Is the + way your face is tittered up just dirt?” + </p> + <p> + “Just dirt, that's all. It came from the old tombstones in the cemetery.” + </p> + <p> + Primmie's mouth was open to ask another question, but Miss Phipps closed + it. + </p> + <p> + “Stop, Primmie,” she said. Then, turning to Galusha who was on his way to + the stairs, she asked: + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, Mr. Bangs, but have you been spendin' this lovely forenoon in + the graveyard?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Oh, yes, yes. In the old cemetery over—ah—yonder.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!... Well, I hope you had a nice time.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I did, I did, thank you. I enjoyed myself very much indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I should think you must have.... Well, come down right away because + dinner's ready when you are.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha hastened up the stairs. His hostess gazed after him and slowly + shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Martha, Miss Martha.” + </p> + <p> + Martha turned, to find Primmie excitedly gesticulating. “Didn't I tell + you? Didn't I tell you?” whispered Primmie. + </p> + <p> + “Didn't you tell me what? Stop wigglin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm. Didn't I tell you 'undertaker'?” + </p> + <p> + “WHAT?” + </p> + <p> + “Undertaker. Him, the Bangs one. Yesterday 'twas remains, to-day it's + graveyards. My savin' soul, I—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, hush! Have you thought to get that dictionary from Lulie yet?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, now, ma'am, I snum if I didn't forget it. I'll go right over this + minute.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you won't. I'll go myself after dinner.” + </p> + <p> + That Sunday dinner was a bountiful repast and Galusha ate more than he had + eaten in three meals at his mountain hotel. He was a trifle tired from his + morning's stroll and so decided to remain indoors until the following day. + After the table was cleared Miss Phipps, leaving Primmie to wash the + dishes, went over to the light keeper's house. + </p> + <p> + “I'll be back soon, Mr. Bangs,” she said. “If you get lonesome go out into + the kitchen and Primmie'll talk to you. Goodness gracious!” she added, + laughing, “that's a dreadful choice I'm leavin' you—lonesomeness or + Primmie. Well, I won't leave you to either long.” + </p> + <p> + During the meal he had told them of his chance discovery of the old church + and graveyard and of the loss of the brown derby. Primmie plainly regarded + the catastrophe to the hat as a serious matter. + </p> + <p> + “Well, now, if that ain't too bad!” she exclaimed. “Blowed right out to + sea, and 'most brand-new, too. My savin' soul, Miss Martha, folks ought to + be careful what they say, hadn't they?... Eh, hadn't they?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I guess so, Primmie. I don't know what you're talkin' about. Can't I + help you to a little more of the chicken pie, Mr. Bangs? Just a little BIT + more?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha had scarcely time to decline the third helping of chicken pie when + Primmie plunged again into the conversation. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I mean folks ought to be careful what they say about—about + things. Now you and me hadn't no notion Mr. Bangs was goin' to lose his + hat when we was talkin' about it this mornin', had we?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phipps was much embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + “Have a—a—Oh, do have a little potato or cranberry sauce or + somethin', Mr. Bangs,” she stammered. “A—a spoonful, that's all. + Primmie, be STILL.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm. But you know you and me WAS talkin' about that hat when Mr. Bangs + started out walkin'. Don't you know we was, Miss Martha?” + </p> + <p> + This was the final straw. Martha, looking about in desperation, trying to + look anywhere but into her guest's face, caught one transitory glimpse of + that face. There was a twinkle in Galusha's eye. + </p> + <p> + “I never liked that hat myself,” he observed, dryly. + </p> + <p> + Again their glances met and this time he smiled. Martha gave it up. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear!” she exclaimed, with a laugh. “You know what they say about + children and—other folks, Mr. Bangs. Primmie, if you say another + word while we're at this table I'll—I don't know what I'll do to + you. STOP! You've said plenty and plenty more, as father used to say. + Truly, Mr. Bangs, it wasn't as bad as it sounds. I honestly DIDN'T think + the hat was becomin', that's all.” + </p> + <p> + “Neither did I, Miss Phipps. I didn't think so when I bought it.” + </p> + <p> + “You didn't? Then for mercy sakes why did you buy it?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, the man said it was just the hat for me and—ah—I didn't + wish to argue, that's all. Besides, I thought perhaps he knew best; + selling hats was his—ah—profession, you see.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, SELLIN' 'em was. Do you always let folks like that pick out what + they want to sell you?” + </p> + <p> + “No-o, not always. Often I do. It saves—ah—conversation, don't + you think?” + </p> + <p> + He said nothing concerning his meeting with Miss Hallett and the South + Wellmouth station agent, but he did mention encountering Captain Jethro + and Mr. Pulcifer. Martha seemed much interested. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” she exclaimed. “I wonder what possessed Cap'n Jeth to go over to + the cemetery in the mornin'. He almost always goes there Sunday afternoons—his + wife's buried there—but he generally goes to church in the mornin'.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha remembered having heard the light keeper refer to the exchange of + preachers. Miss Phipps nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” she said, “that explains it, of course. He's down on the + Wapatomac minister because he preaches against spiritualism. But what was + Raish Pulcifer doin' in that cemetery? He didn't have anybody's grave to + go to, and he wouldn't go to it if he had. There's precious little chance + of doin' business with a person after he's buried.” + </p> + <p> + “But I think it was business which brought Mr. Pulcifer there,” said + Galusha. “He and—ah—Captain Hallett, is it? Yes—ah—thank + you. He and the captain seemed to be having a lengthy argument about—about—well, + I'm not exactly certain what it was about. You see, I was examining a—ah—tomb”—here + Primmie shivered—“and paid little attention. It seemed to be + something about some—ah—stock they both owned. Mr. Pulcifer + wished to sell and Captain Hallett did not care to buy.” + </p> + <p> + Martha's interest increased. “Stock?” she repeated. “What sort of stock + was it, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't catch the name. And yet, as I remember, I did catch some portion + of it. Ah—let me see—Could there be such a thing as a—ah—'ornamenting' + stock? A Wellmouth ornamenting or decorating stock, you know?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phipps leaned forward. “Was it Wellmouth Development Company stock?” + she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Oh, yes—yes, I'm quite certain that was it. Yes, I think it + was, really.” + </p> + <p> + “And Raish wanted Cap'n Jeth to buy some of it?” + </p> + <p> + “That was what I gathered, Miss Phipps. As I say, I was more interested at + the time in my—ah—pet tomb.” + </p> + <p> + Primmie shivered again. Miss Martha looked very serious. She was + preoccupied during the rest of the dinner and, immediately afterward, + went, as has been told, over to the Hallett house, leaving her guest the + alternative of loneliness or Primmie. + </p> + <p> + At first he chose the loneliness. As a matter of fact, his morning's + exercise had fatigued him somewhat and he went up to his room with the + intention of taking a nap. But, before lying down, he seated himself in + the rocker by the window and looked out over the prospect of hills and + hollows, the little village, the pine groves, the shimmering, tumbling + sea, and the blue sky with its swiftly moving white clouds, the latter + like bunches of cotton fluff. The landscape was bare enough, perhaps, but + somehow it appealed to him. It seemed characteristically plain and + substantial and essential, like—well, like the old Cape Cod captains + of bygone days who had spent the dry land portion of their lives there and + had loved to call it home. It was American, as they were, American in the + old-fashioned meaning of the word, bluff, honest, rugged, real. Galusha + Bangs had traveled much, he loved the out of the way, the unusual. It + surprised him therefore to find how strongly this commonplace, 'longshore + spot appealed to his imagination. He liked it and wondered why. + </p> + <p> + Of course the liking might come from the contrast between the rest and + freedom he was now experiencing and the fevered chase led him at the + mountain hotel where Mrs. Worth Buckley and her lion-hunting sisters had + their habitat. Thought of the pestilential Buckley female set him to + contrasting her affectations with the kind-hearted and wholehearted + simplicity of his present hostess, Miss Martha Phipps. It was something of + a contrast. Mrs. Buckley was rich and sophisticated and—in her own + opinion—cultured to the highest degree. Now Miss Phipps was, in all + probability, not rich and she would not claim wide culture. As to her + sophistication—well, Galusha gave little thought to that, in most + worldly matters he himself was unsophisticated. However, he was sure that + he liked Miss Phipps and that he loathed Mrs. Buckley. And he liked East + Wellmouth, bareness and bleakness and lonesomeness and all. He rather + wished he were going to stay there for a long time—weeks perhaps, + months it might be; that is, of course, provided he could occupy his + present quarters and eat at the Phipps' table. If he could do that why—why... + humph! + </p> + <p> + Instead of lying down he sat by that window for more than half an hour + thinking. He came out of his reverie slowly, gradually becoming conscious + of a high-pitched conversation carried on downstairs. He had left his + chamber door open and fragments of this conversation came up the + staircase. It was Primmie's voice which he heard most frequently and + whatever words he caught were hers. There was a masculine grumble at + intervals but this was not understandable on the second floor. + </p> + <p> + “Now I know better.... My savin' soul, how you do talk, Zach Bloomer!... + And I says to her, says I, 'Miss Martha,' I says.... My Lord of Isrul!...” + </p> + <p> + These were some of the “Primmieisms” which came up the staircase. Galusha + rose to close his door but before he could accomplish this feat his own + name was called. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bangs!” screamed Primmie. “Mr. Bangs, be you layin' down? You ain't + asleep, be you, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + If he had been as sound asleep as Rip Van Winkle that whoop would have + aroused him. He hastened to assure the whooper that he was awake and + afoot. + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm,” said Primmie, “I'm glad of that. If you'd been layin' down I + wouldn't have woke you up for nothin'. But I want to ask you somethin', + Mr. Bangs. Had you just as soon answer me somethin' if I ask it of you, + had you, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Primmie.” + </p> + <p> + “Just as soon's not, had you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, quite as soon.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. Then I—I... Let me see now, what was it I was goin' to + ask? Zach Bloomer, stop your makin' faces, you put it all out of my head. + It's all right, Mr. Bangs, I'll think of it in a minute. Oh, you're comin' + down, be you?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha was coming down. It seemed to be the advisable thing to do. Miss + Cash was doing her “thinking” at the top of her lungs and the process was + trying to one with uneasy nerves. He entered the sitting room. Primmie was + there, of course, and with her was a little, thin man, with a face + sunburned to a bright, “boiled-lobster” red, and a bald head which looked + amazingly white by contrast, a yellowish wisp of mustache, and an + expression of intense solemnity, amounting almost to gloom. He was dressed + in the blue uniform of the lighthouse service and a blue cap lay on the + table beside him. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bangs,” announced Primmie, “this is Mr. Zach Bloomer. Zach, make you + acquainted with Mr. Bangs, the one I was tellin' you about. Mr.—Mr.—Oh, + my savin' soul, what IS your first name, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + “Galusha, Primmie. How do you do, Mr. Bloomer?” + </p> + <p> + The little man rose upon a pair of emphatically bowed legs and shook + hands. “I'm pretty smart,” he observed, in a husky voice. Then he sat down + again. Galusha, after waiting a moment, sat down also. Primmie seemed to + be wrestling with a mental problem, but characteristically she could not + wrestle in silence. + </p> + <p> + “What was it I wanted to ask you, Mr. Bangs?” she said. “I snum I can't + think! Zach, what was it I wanted to ask Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bloomer paid not the slightest attention to the question. His sad blue + eye was fixed upon vacancy. + </p> + <p> + “Galushy—Galushy,” he said, huskily. “Huh!” + </p> + <p> + Galusha was, naturally, rather startled. + </p> + <p> + “Eh? I—ah—beg your pardon,” he observed. + </p> + <p> + “I was thinkin' about names,” explained Mr. Bloomer. “Queer things, names + are, ain't they? Zacheus and Galushy.... Godfreys!” + </p> + <p> + He paused a moment and then added: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “'Zacheus he + Did climb a tree + His Lord to see.' +</pre> + <p> + Well, if he wan't any taller'n I be he showed good jedgment.... Zacheus + and Galushy and Primrose!... Godfreys!” + </p> + <p> + Primmie was shocked. “Why, Zach Bloomer!” she exclaimed. “The idea of your + talkin' so about a person's name you never met but just now in your + lifetime.” + </p> + <p> + Zacheus regarded the owner of the name. + </p> + <p> + “No offense meant and none given, Mr. Bangs,” he observed. “Eh? That's + right, ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, certainly, Mr. Bloomer. I'm not in the least offended.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Didn't cal'late you would be. Can't help our names, can we? If my + folks had asked me aforehand I'd a-been named plain John. As 'tis, my + name's like my legs, growed that way and it's too late to change.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha smiled. + </p> + <p> + “You're a philosopher, I see, Mr. Bloomer,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “He's assistant keeper over to the lighthouse,” explained Primmie. As + before, Zach paid no heed. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know as I'd go so far as to call myself that,” he said. “When I + went to school the teacher told us one time about an old critter who lived + in a—in a tub, seem's if 'twas. HE was one of them philosophers, + wan't he?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Diogenes.” + </p> + <p> + “That's the cuss. Well, I ain't never lived in a tub, but I've spent + consider'ble time ON one; I was aboard a lightship for five or six year. + Ever lived aboard a lightship, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!... Don't feel disapp'inted on that account, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—ah—no, I don't know that I do.” + </p> + <p> + “Ain't no occasion. 'Bout the same as bein' in jail, 'tis—only a + jail don't keep heavin' up and down. First week or so you talk. By the + second week the talk's all run out of you, like molasses out of a + hogshead. Then you set and think.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. And so much thinking tends to bring out—ah—philosophy, + I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh! Maybe so. So much settin' wears out overalls, I know that.” + </p> + <p> + Primmie interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “I've got it!” she cried, enthusiastically. “<i>I</i> know now!” + </p> + <p> + Galusha started nervously. Primmie's explosiveness was disturbing. It did + not disturb Mr. Bloomer, however. + </p> + <p> + “Posy here'd be a good hand aboard a lightship,” he observed. “Her talk'd + NEVER run out.” + </p> + <p> + Primmie sniffed disgust. “I wish you wouldn't keep callin' me 'Posy' and + such names, Zach Bloomer,” she snapped. “Yesterday he called me 'Old + Bouquet,' Mr. Bangs. My name's Primrose and he knows it.” + </p> + <p> + The phlegmatic Zacheus, whose left leg had been crossed above his right, + now reversed the crossing. + </p> + <p> + “A-ll right—er Pansy Blossom,” he drawled. “What is it you're trying + to tell us you know? Heave it overboard.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey?... Oh, I mean I've remembered what 'twas I wanted to ask you, Mr. + Bangs. Me and Zach was talkin' about Miss Martha. I said it seemed to me + she had somethin' on her mind, was sort of worried and troubled about + somethin', and Zach—” + </p> + <p> + For the first time the assistant light keeper seemed a trifle less + composed. + </p> + <p> + “There, there, Primmie,” he began. “I wouldn't—” + </p> + <p> + “Be still, Zach Bloomer. You know you want to find out just as much as I + do. Well, Zach, he cal'lated maybe 'twas money matters, cal'lated maybe + she was in debt or somethin'.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bloomer's discomfiture was so intense as to cause him actually to + uncross his legs. + </p> + <p> + “Godfreys, Prim!” he exclaimed. “Give you a shingle and a + pocket-handkercher and you'll brag to all hands you've got a full-rigged + ship. I never said Martha was in debt. I did say she acted worried to me + and I was afraid it might be account of some money business. She was over + to the light just now askin' for Cap'n Jeth, and he's the one her dad, + Cap'n Jim Phipps, used to talk such things with. They went into a good + many trades together, them too.... But there, 'tain't any of your affairs, + is it, Mr. Bangs—and 'tain't any of Primmie's and my business, so + we'd better shut up. Don't say nothin' to Martha about it, Mr. Bangs, if + you'd just as soon. But course you wouldn't anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + This was a tremendously long speech for Mr. Bloomer. He sighed at its end, + as if from exhaustion; then he crossed his legs again. Galusha hastened to + assure him that he would keep silent. Primmie, however, had more to say. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Zach Bloomer,” she declared, “you know that wan't only part of what + you and me was sayin'. That wan't what I wanted to ask Mr. Bangs. YOU said + if 'twas money matters or business Miss Martha went to see Cap'n Jeth + about you cal'lated the cap'n would be cruisin' up to Boston to see a + medium pretty soon.” + </p> + <p> + “The old man's Speritu'list,” exclaimed Zach. “Always goes to one of them + Speritu'list mediums for sailin' orders.” + </p> + <p> + “Now you let me tell it, Zach. Well, then <i>I</i> said I wondered if you + wan't a kind of medium, Mr. Bangs. And Zach, he—” + </p> + <p> + Galusha interrupted this time. + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</i>—a medium!” he gasped. “Well, really, I—ah—oh, + dear! Dear me!” + </p> + <p> + “AIN'T you a kind of medium, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I thought undertakin' was your trade till Miss Martha put her foot + down on the notion and shut me right up. You AIN'T an undertaker, be you?” + </p> + <p> + “An undertaker?... Dear me, Primmie, you—ah—well, you surprise + me. Just why did you think me an undertaker, may I ask?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you see, 'cause—'cause—well, you was talkin' yesterday + about interestin' remains and—and all this forenoon you was over in + the cemetery and said you had such a good time there and... and I couldn't + see why anybody, unless he was an undertaker, or—or a medium maybe, + would call bein' around with dead folks havin' a good time... Quit your + laughin', Zach Bloomer; you didn't know what Mr. Bangs' trade was any + more'n I did.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bloomer cleared his throat. “Mr. Bangs,” he observed sadly, “didn't I + tell you she'd make a ship out of a shingle? If you'd puffed smoke, and + whistled once in a while, she'd have cal'lated you must be a tugboat.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha smiled. + </p> + <p> + “I am an archaeologist,” he said. “I think I told you that, Primmie.” + </p> + <p> + Primmie looked blank. “Yes,” she admitted, “you did, but—” + </p> + <p> + Zacheus finished the sentence. + </p> + <p> + “But you didn't tell TOO much when you told it,” he said. “What kind of an + ark did you say?” + </p> + <p> + And then Galusha explained. The fact that any one in creation should not + know what an archaeologist was seemed unbelievable, but a fact it + evidently was. So he explained and the explanation, under questioning, + became lengthy. Primmie's exclamations, “My savin' soul” and “My Lord of + Isrul” became more and more frequent. Mr. Bloomer interjected a remark + here and there. At length a sound outside caused him to look out of the + window. + </p> + <p> + “Here comes the old man and Martha,” he said. “Cal'late I'd better be + gettin' back aboard. Can't leave Lulie to tend light all the time. Much + obliged to you, Mr. Bangs. You've cruised around more'n I give you credit + for. Um-hm. Any time you want to know about a lightship or—or + lobsterin' or anything, I'd be pleased to tell you. Good-day, sir. So long—er—Sweet + William. See you later.” + </p> + <p> + The “Sweet William” was addressed to Primmie, of course. The bow-legged + little man, rolling from side to side like the lightship of which he + talked so much, walked out of the room. A moment later Martha Phipps and + Captain Jethro Hallett entered it. + </p> + <p> + Both Miss Phipps and the light keeper seemed preoccupied. The former's + round, wholesome face was clouded over and the captain was tugging at his + thick beard and drawing his bushy eyebrows together in a frown. He was a + burly, broad-shouldered man, with a thin-lipped mouth, and a sharp gray + eye. He looked like one hard to drive and equally hard to turn, the sort + from which fanatics are made. + </p> + <p> + Primmie scuttled away to the dining room. Galusha rose. + </p> + <p> + “Good-afternoon, Captain Hallett,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Jethro regarded him from beneath the heavy brows. + </p> + <p> + “You know Mr. Bangs, Cap'n Jeth,” said Martha. “You met this mornin', + didn't you?” + </p> + <p> + The light keeper nodded. + </p> + <p> + “We run afoul of each other over to the graveyard,” he grunted. “Well, + Martha, I don't know what more there is to say about—about that + thing. I've told you all I know, I cal'late.” + </p> + <p> + “But I want to talk a little more about it, Cap'n Jeth. If Mr. Bangs will + excuse us we'll go out into the dinin' room. Primmie's up in her room by + this time. You will excuse us, won't you, Mr. Bangs? There was a little + business matter the cap'n and I were talkin' about.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha hastened to say that he himself had been on the point of going to + his own room—really he was. + </p> + <p> + Miss Martha asked if he was sure. + </p> + <p> + “You needn't go on our account,” she protested. “We can talk in the dinin' + room just as well as not, can't we Cap'n Jeth?” + </p> + <p> + The captain bowed his head. “We ain't cal'latin' to talk very long + anyhow,” he said, solemnly. “This is the Lord's day, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha hastily admitted that he was aware of the fact. He hurried into + the hall and up the stairs. As he reached the upper landing he heard the + ponderous boom of the light keeper's voice saying, “Martha, I tell you + again there's no use frettin' yourself. We've to wait on the Lord. Then + that wait will be provided for; it's been so revealed to me.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phipps sighed heavily. “Maybe so, Jethro,” she said, “but what will + some of us live on while we're waitin'? THAT hasn't been revealed to you, + has it?” + </p> + <p> + For the rest of that afternoon Galusha sat by his bedroom window, + thinking. His thoughts were along the line of those interrupted by + Primmie's summons. When, at supper time, he again descended the stairs, + his mind was made up. He was going to make a suggestion, a suggestion + which seemed to him somewhat delicate. In one sense of the term it was a + business proposition, in another—well, he was not precisely certain + that it might not be considered presuming and perhaps intrusive. Galusha + Cabot Bangs was not a presuming person and he was troubled. + </p> + <p> + After the supper dishes were washed and Primmie sent to bed—“sent” + is the exact word, for Miss Cash, having had a taste of Egypt and the + Orient, was eagerly hoping for more—Miss Phipps and Galusha were + together in the sitting room. Doctor Powers had paid a brief visit. He + found his patient so much improved that he announced him well enough to + travel if he wished. + </p> + <p> + “If it is really necessary for you to go to-morrow, Mr. Bangs,” he said, + “I think you're strong enough to risk it.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Doctor,” said Galusha. Then he added, with his little smile, + “I couldn't go before to-morrow. You see, I—ah—haven't any + hat.” + </p> + <p> + In the sitting room, after supper, Galusha was idly turning the pages of + Camp, Battlefield and Hospital, a worn book of Civil War sketches, printed + immediately after that war, which he had found upon the shelf of the + closet in his room, along with another volume labeled Friendship's + Garland, a Nosegay of Verse. Of the two, although a peace-loving + individual, he preferred the camp and battlefield to the Nosegay; the + latter's fragrance was a trifle too sweet. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Martha, who had been sitting quiet in the rocker, spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bangs,” she said, “I saw Lulie Hallett when I was over at the light + this afternoon. We had a good talk together before Cap'n Jethro came back. + She told me about your bein' so kind to her and Nelson over by the old + church this mornin'. She was real grateful to you and she says she shall + thank you herself when she sees you. She asked me to do it for her now.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha was confused. “Oh, it was nothing, really,” he hastened to + explain. “I—ah—Well, I intruded upon them somewhat suddenly. I + see she told you of that.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phipps was smiling to herself. She looked a little guilty. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she admitted, “Lulie did say that you kind of—er—flew + over the bank. She said no one was ever quite so surprised as she was at + that minute.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs thoughtfully shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Except myself, perhaps,” he observed. + </p> + <p> + Martha's smile became a laugh. “Probably that's so,” she admitted. “But, + Mr. Bangs, Lulie is awfully anxious that you shouldn't think there was + anything wrong about her meetin' Nelson Howard in that way. There isn't. + She's a splendid girl and he's a fine young man. I think the world of + Lulie and I like Nelson, too.” + </p> + <p> + She paused a moment and then went on. + </p> + <p> + “It's Cap'n Jethro that makes all the trouble,” she said. “There's no + reason in the world—that is, no sensible reason—why Lulie and + Nelson shouldn't be engaged to be married. Of course he isn't doin' very + well in a business way just now, but that's partly from choice on Lulie's + account. Nelse was a telegraph operator up in Brockton before the war. + When the war came he went right into the Navy and started in at the Radio + School studyin' to be a wireless operator. Then he was taken down with the + 'flu' and had to give up study. Soon as he got well he went into the + transport service. Lulie, you see, was teachin' school at Ostable, but her + father's health isn't what it used to be and then, besides, I think she + was a little worried about his spiritualism. Jethro isn't crazy about it, + exactly, but he isn't on an even keel on that subject, there's no doubt + about that. So Lulie gave up teachin' and came here to live with him. When + Nelson was mustered out he took the station agent's job at South Wellmouth + so as to be near her. I think he doesn't feel right to have her here alone + with her father.” + </p> + <p> + “But—ah—she isn't alone, is she? I gathered that Mr.—ah—Bloomer—” + </p> + <p> + “Zach Bloomer? Yes, he's there, but Zach isn't lively company, especially + for a girl like Lulie. If Jethro was taken—well, with a fit or + somethin', Zach would probably sit down and cross those bow legs of his + and moralize for an hour or so before he got ready to help pick the old + man up. Nelson knows that and so he refused two real good offers he had + and took the position at the South Wellmouth depot. But he's studyin' at + his wireless all the time and some day—but I'm afraid that day will + be a long way off. Cap'n Jeth is as set as the side of a stone wharf and + you'd have to take him to pieces to move him. That was another of father's + sayin's,” she added, “that about the stone wharf.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, why is the—ah—why is Captain Hallet so opposed to young + Howard?” asked Galusha. + </p> + <p> + “Spiritualism. Foolishness, that's all. Before his wife died he was as + sensible and shrewd a man as you'd care to see. He and father were old + chums and father used to ask his advice about investments and all such + things. They went into lots of deals together and generally made 'em pay, + though Jethro usually made the most because he took more chances. He must + be worth twenty or thirty thousand dollars, Cap'n Jeth Hallett is.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke as if these were enormous sums. Galusha, to whom all sums—sums + of money, that is—were more or less alike, nodded gravely. + </p> + <p> + “His wife's death broke Jethro dreadfully,” continued Martha. “For six + months or so he hardly spoke to anybody except Lulie. Then some + Spiritualist or other—I think it was Ophelia Beebe or some + rattlehead like her—got him to go to see a medium who was boardin' + here at the Restabit Inn. He got—or thinks he got—a + communication direct from Julia—his wife. After that he kept goin' + to the Spiritualist camp meetin's and to Boston and to mediums from Dan to + Beersheba, so to speak. A while ago one medium creature—and I wish + she had been struck dumb before she could say it—told him that he + must beware of a dark man who was tryin' to work evil upon his daughter. + As luck would have it, Nelson Howard was home on leave and callin' on + Lulie when her father got back from seein' that very medium. You can + imagine what happened. And Jethro has been growin' more rabid on the + subject ever since.” + </p> + <p> + She stopped. Her guest said nothing. He was thinking that if he were to + make the suggestion—the proposition which he had determined upon + before he came down to supper, he must make it soon. And he did not know + how to begin. + </p> + <p> + Martha went on talking. She apparently did not notice his silence. It was + more as if she were thinking aloud. + </p> + <p> + “If it wasn't for Lulie's bein' here,” she said, slowly, “I don't know + what I should do sometimes, I get so lonesome. When father lived it was + all so different. He was bright and cheerful and he and I were just as if + we were the same age, as you might say. He never was cross and he didn't + fret and if he worried he didn't let me know it. He just loved this place. + It was near the salt water, and he loved that, and he had his garden and + his hens and he was interested in town affairs and all. We didn't have + much money, but we had enough, seemed so. Before he died he told me he + hoped he'd left me well enough off to get along. 'The only thing that + troubles me, Martha,' he said, 'is that some of the things I've put money + into shouldn't turn out as I hoped. I've tried to be careful, but you + can't always tell. If you want advice,' he said, 'go to Jethro Hallett. + Jeth's a shrewd business man.' Ah, well, he didn't know that the spirits + were goin' to run Cap'n Jeth. About the last words he said to me, father, + I mean, was, 'Martha, hang on to the old place if you can. I hate to think + of your sellin' it.' Of course I told him I never should sell it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well—ah—well—” Galusha felt that he ought to say + something, “you don't intend selling it, do you, Miss Phipps?” + </p> + <p> + Martha did not answer immediately. And when she did speak it was not a + reply. + </p> + <p> + “You must think we're a queer lot down here by the Bluffs, Mr. Bangs,” she + said. “Primmie—you've seen what she is—and Zach Bloomer and + Cap'n Jethro with his 'spirit revelations.' As I say, if it wasn't for + Lulie I don't know what I should do. Get to be cracked myself, I presume + likely.... But there,” she added, brightening, “do let's change the + subject, for mercy sakes! Mr. Bangs, what do you suppose I did when I was + over at the light this afternoon? Besides talkin' with Lulie, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, I don't know, I'm sure.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe you could guess, either. I looked up 'archaeologist' in + the dictionary.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs blinked surprise behind the spectacles. + </p> + <p> + “In the—in the dictionary?” he repeated. “Oh—ah—dear me! + Really!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I'm afraid you'll think I am awfully ignorant, but to save my soul I + couldn't think what an archaeologist did, what sort of a business it was, + I mean. Of course, I knew I OUGHT to know, and that I did know once, but + it seemed to be perfectly certain that I didn't know THEN. So I looked it + up. It fits in with what you told Primmie and me about travelin'—that + camel driver creature and all—and yet—and yet, you know, I was + surprised.” + </p> + <p> + “Surprised? Really? Yes, of course, but—but why?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, because somehow you don't look like that kind of man. I mean the + kind of man who travels in all sorts of wild places and does dangerous + things, you know, and—” + </p> + <p> + Galusha's desire to protest overcame his politeness. He broke in + hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but I'm not, you know,” he cried. “I'm not really. Dear me, no!” + </p> + <p> + “But you said you had been to—to Africa, was it?—three or four + times.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but those were my Abyssinian trips. Abyssinia isn't wild, or + dangerous, any more than Egypt.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not in the least, really. Oh, dear me, no!” + </p> + <p> + “Not with darky camel drivers stealin' your—er—underclothes + and goodness knows what? It sounds a little wild to ME.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but it isn't, I assure you. And Egypt—ah—Egypt is a + wonderful country. On my most recent trip I.... May I tell you?” + </p> + <p> + He began to tell her without waiting for permission. For the next hour + Martha Phipps journeyed afar, under an African sun, over desert sands, + beside a river she had read of in her geography when a girl, under palm + trees, amid pyramids and temples and the buried cities of a buried people. + And before her skipped, figuratively speaking, the diminutive figure of + Galusha Bangs, guiding, pointing, declaiming, describing, the incarnation + of enthusiastic energy, as different as anything could be from the mild, + dreamy little person who had sat opposite her at the supper table so short + a time before. + </p> + <p> + The wooden clock on the mantel—it had wooden works and Martha wound + it each night before she went to bed—banged its gong ten times. Mr. + Bangs descended from Egypt as if he had fallen from a palm tree, alighting + upon reality and Cape Cod with startled suddenness. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear me!” he cried. “What was that? Goodness me, it CAN'T be ten + o'clock, can it? Oh, I must have talked you almost to death, Miss Phipps. + I must have bored you to distraction, I must really. Oh, I'm SO sorry!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Martha also seemed to be coming out of a dream, or trance. She + stirred in her chair. + </p> + <p> + “You haven't bored me, Mr. Bangs,” she said, + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but I must have, really. I should know better. You see.... Well, it's + quite extraordinary my talking to you in this way, isn't it? I don't do it + often—ah—except to other members of my profession. Why, up + there in the mountains—at the place where I spent the past month or + two, I scarcely talked of—ah—my work at all. And I was + constantly being asked to do so. There was a dreadful—ah—that + is, there was a woman who.... But I promise you I won't go on in this way + again, Miss Phipps, really I won't.” + </p> + <p> + Martha drew a long breath and shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you won't promise any such thing,” she declared. “I feel as if I + had been readin' the most interestin' storybook that ever was.... My, my!” + she added, with a sigh. “What a curious thing life is, isn't it? There's + nothin' new in that thought, of course, but it comes to us all every + little while, I suppose. Just think of the difference there has been in + our two lives, for instance. Here are you, Mr. Bangs, you've been + everywhere, pretty nearly, and yet you're—well, you're not so very + big or strong-lookin'. The average person would say I was the one best + fitted to trot around the world, and all my life—or nearly all—I've + been keepin' house in this little corner of East Wellmouth. That's + curious, isn't it? Of course I can't see myself doin' the things you do—ridin' + a camel, for instance.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but it is quite easy, quite,” Galusha hastened to assure her. “You + could do it very well, I'm sure, Miss Phipps.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe so, but I'm afraid I'm a little bit doubtful. I should want my + camel on wheels, with a railin' around his hump. But YOU must feel lost + enough down in this tame place, Mr. Bangs. The wildest thing around here + is a woodchuck.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed. Galusha smiled, but he answered promptly. + </p> + <p> + “I like it here, Miss Phipps,” he said, earnestly. “I do, really. I like + it very much indeed. In fact—in fact—Miss Phipps, would you + mind answering a question or two?... Oh, they're not personal questions, + personal to you, I mean. Really they are not. May I ask them?” + </p> + <p> + She was puzzled and looked so. + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Well... well, they're foolish questions, I suppose, for I think I know + the answers already. But, you see, I want my conscience to be quite clear + before making a decision.... That is, the decision is already made, but + you see... oh, no, you don't see, of course, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why not ask your questions, Mr. Bangs?” she suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—ah—thank you; yes, I will. The first one is about—ah—rest. + This is a good spot for one to—ah—rest in, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + She laughed. “Are you jokin', Mr. Bangs?” she asked. “Rest! I should say + the average person would find it easier to rest here than to do anything + else. But you are jokin', of course?” + </p> + <p> + “No; no, indeed, I am quite serious. Second, the air about here is—ah—good + and—and fresh?” + </p> + <p> + “GOOD! Well, considerin' that most of it is blown over three or four + thousand miles of salt water before it gets here it ought to be fairly + good, I should say. As to its bein' fresh—well, if you were here + when a February no'theaster was blowin' I'm afraid you might find it a + little TOO fresh.” + </p> + <p> + “That is satisfactory, that is very satisfactory indeed. Now what was the + third thing the doctor said I must have? Oh, yes, people. And I know there + are people here because I have met them. And very nice people, indeed.... + Oh, this is VERY satisfactory, Miss Phipps. Now my conscience is quite + clear concerning my promise to the doctor and I can go on to my proposal + to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Your—your WHAT?” + </p> + <p> + “My proposal—the—ah—proposition I want to make you, Miss + Phipps. And I DO hope you will consider it favorably. You see, I like East + Wellmouth VERY much. My doctor told me I must go where I could find fresh + air, rest, and people. They are all here in East Wellmouth. And he said I + must have exercise, and behold my daily walks to that most interesting old + cemetery of yours. Now, you have been VERY kind to me already, Miss + Phipps; could you be still more kind? Would you—ah—could you + let me continue our present arrangement indefinitely—for a few + months, let us say? Might I be permitted to board here with you until—well, + until spring, perhaps?” + </p> + <p> + Martha Phipps leaned back in her chair. She regarded him keenly. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bangs,” she said, slowly, “has some one been tellin' you that I + needed money and are you makin' me this offer out of—well, out of + charity?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha jumped violently. He turned quite pale. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear, dear, dear!” he cried, in a great agitation. “Oh, dear me, dear + me! No, INDEED, Miss Phipps! I am VERY sorry you should so misunderstand + me. I—I—Of course I know nothing of your money affairs, nor + should I presume to—to—Oh, I—I—Oh, dear!” + </p> + <p> + His distress was so keen that she was obliged to recognize it. + </p> + <p> + “All right, all right, Mr. Bangs,” she said. “It wasn't charity, I can see + that. But what was it? Do I understand you to say that you like—actually + like this lonesome place well enough to want to stay here all WINTER?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—ah—yes. And it doesn't seem lonesome to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Doesn't it? Well, wait a little while.... And you really mean you want to + keep on boardin' here—with me, with us?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, if—if you will be so very kind as to permit me to do so. If + you will be so good.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! To what? My soul and body!” + </p> + <p> + “No—ah—good to mine,” said Galusha. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + It was not settled that evening. Martha declared she must have at least a + few hours in which to think it over and Galusha, of course, agreed. + </p> + <p> + “It won't take too long,” she said. “Naturally, you want to know so that + you can make your plans.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha smiled. “Please take as much time as you need, Miss Phipps,” he + urged. “If you permit me to remain here while you are—ah—endeavoring + to reach a decision I shall be quite satisfied, really. In that case, you + know, I should be willing to wait for the decision until spring. Dear me, + yes—even until summer.” + </p> + <p> + Martha laughed and declared she should decide long before that. “I think + breakfast time to-morrow will settle it,” she added. + </p> + <p> + It did. After breakfast she informed him that he might stay if he wished. + </p> + <p> + “Though WHY you want to I can't understand,” she said. “And of course it + is part of the agreement that you'll feel free to give it up and go any + time you wish; as soon as you begin to get tired of the place and us, I + mean.” + </p> + <p> + He beamed satisfaction. “I shall not be the one to tire first,” he + declared. Then he added, earnestly, “Of course, Miss Phipps, you will be + perfectly frank and tell me at once if you change YOUR mind. And if I + should become a—ah—well, a sort of nuisance, be irregular at + meals, or noisy or—What is it? I beg your pardon?” + </p> + <p> + She had laughed outright. She was still smiling when she apologized. + </p> + <p> + “Please excuse me for laughin', Mr. Bangs,” she said, “but don't you think + yourself that that is funny? The idea of your bein' noisy, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + He stroked his chin. + </p> + <p> + “We-ll,” he admitted, “perhaps it is. But sometimes I am quite boisterous, + really I am. I remember once, years ago, I was in an old cemetery in New + Hampshire and I suddenly discovered an inscription which pleased me VERY + much. MOST quaint and unusual it was—dear me, yes. And quite + unconsciously I burst into a shout—a cheer, as one may say. The old + sexton was quite scandalized and warned me not to do it again. He said it + would disturb people. I don't know whom he meant, there were no living + people to be disturbed.” + </p> + <p> + The question of terms was the cause of a supplementary discussion. Mr. + Bangs insisted upon continuing the three dollars a day rate and Miss + Martha declared he should do nothing of the kind. + </p> + <p> + “That three dollars a day was just a temporary thing,” she said. “I said + it just because I was sure you would go over to Elmer Rogers' if I didn't. + Elmer Rogers is a robber and always was. Father used to say he was the + forty-first member of the Forty Thieves and that they didn't boil him + because he wasn't enough account to waste hot oil on.” + </p> + <p> + “But—ah—it seems to me that if the Rogers' House board is + worth three dollars a day yours should be worth five at least.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe so, but I never heard anybody but Elmer say his board was worth one + dollar, let alone three.” + </p> + <p> + They compromised on a daily rate of two and a half per day, which each + declared to be ridiculous. + </p> + <p> + Thus Galusha Cabot Bangs became no longer a transitory but a regular + boarder and lodger at the Phipps' place. The fact became known to Miss + Primrose Cash that forenoon, to the driver of the grocer's cart one hour + later, and to all of East Wellmouth before bedtime. It was news and, in + October in East Wellmouth, one item of local news is a rare and blessed + dispensation. + </p> + <p> + Before another day had passed the news item had been embellished. Mr. + Bangs visited the general store of Erastus Beebe to purchase headgear to + replace the brown derby. Erastus happened to be busy at the moment—there + were two customers in his store at the same time, an event most unusual—so + Galusha's wants were supplied by no less a person than Mr. Horatio + Pulcifer. + </p> + <p> + Raish's greeting was condescendingly genial. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well!” he exclaimed, pumping the little man's arm up and down with + one hand and thumping his shrinking shoulder blades with the other. “If it + ain't the perfessor himself! How are you this mornin', Mr. Bangs? Right up + and comin, eh?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha would have withdrawn his hand from the Pulcifer clutch if + withdrawal had been possible. It being quite impossible, he murmured that + he was—“ah—quite well” and, conscious that the eyes of Mr. + Beebe and his two customers were fixed upon him, fixed his own gaze upon + Mr. Pulcifer's assortment of watch charms and shivered with embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't it funny, now?” queried Raish, addressing the world in general. + “Ain't it funny how things happen? When I fetched you over in my car + t'other night didn't I say I hoped you and me'd meet again? That's what I + said. And now we've met twice since. Once in the old boneyard and now + here, eh? And they tell me you like East Wellmouth so much you're goin' to + stick around for a spell. Good business! Say, I'll be sellin' you a piece + of Wellmouth property one of these days to settle down on. That's the kind + of talk, eh, Perfessor? Haw, haw, haw!” + </p> + <p> + He pounded the Bangs' shoulder blades once more. Mr. Beebe and his two + customers echoed the Pulcifer laugh. Galusha smiled painfully—as the + man in the operating chair smiles at the dentist's jokes. + </p> + <p> + “I—I—excuse me,” he faltered, turning to the grinning Erastus, + “can I—That is, have you a—ah—hat or—or cap or + something I might buy?” + </p> + <p> + Before the proprietor of the general store could answer, Mr. Pulcifer + answered for him. Again the hand descended upon the Bangs' shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Haw, haw!” roared Raish, joyfully. “I get you, Mr. Bangs. The old lid + blew out to sea and we've got to get a new one. Say, that was funny, + wasn't it; that hat goin' that way? I don't know's I ever laughed more in + my life. One minute she was jumpin' along amongst them gravestones like a + hoptoad with wings, and then—Zing! Fsst! away she went a half mile + or so down into the breakers. Haw, haw, haw! And to see your face! Why—” + </p> + <p> + Galusha interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “PLEASE don't do that,” he said, nervously. + </p> + <p> + “Hey? Do what?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah—slap my back. I'd rather you wouldn't, if you don't mind. And—oh—I + should like to see a—a cap or something.” + </p> + <p> + The last sentence was addressed to Mr. Beebe, who cleared his throat + importantly. + </p> + <p> + “Jest a minute, jest a minute,” said Erastus. “Soon's I get through + waitin' on these customers I'll 'tend to you. Jest a minute. Yeast cake, + did you say, Mrs. Blount?” + </p> + <p> + “Ohh, pardon me,” faltered Galusha. “I'll wait, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait?” It was Mr. Pulcifer who spoke. “You don't have to wait. I know + Ras's stock as well as he does, pretty nigh. I'LL show you a cap, Mr. + Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh—oh, I couldn't think of troubling you, really I couldn't.” + </p> + <p> + “No trouble at all. What's a little trouble amongst neighbors, eh? And + that's what we are now—neighbors, eh? Sure, Mike! You and me are + goin' to see a lot of each other from now on. There! There's a good, + stylish cap, if I do say it. Try it on? What's your size, Perfessor?” + </p> + <p> + Five minutes later Galusha descended the steps of the Beebe store, wearing + a cloth cap which was, to say the very least, out of the ordinary. Its + material was a fuzzy frieze of nondescript colors, a shade of dingy yellow + predominating, and its shape was weird and umbrellalike. With it upon his + head little Galusha resembled a walking toadstool—an unhealthy, + late-in-the-season toadstool. + </p> + <p> + The quartet in the Beebe store watched his departure from the windows. All + were hugely amused, but one, Mr. Pulcifer, was hilarious. + </p> + <p> + “Haw, haw, haw!” roared Raish. “Look at him! Don't he look like a bullfrog + under a lily pad? Eh? Don't he now? Haw, haw, haw!” + </p> + <p> + Erastus Beebe joined in the laugh, but he shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I've had that cap in stock,” he said, “since—well, since George + Cahoon's son used to come down drummin' for that Boston hat store, and he + quit much as eight year ago, anyhow. How did he ever come to pick THAT cap + out, Raish?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pulcifer regarded the questioner with scornful superiority. + </p> + <p> + “Pick it out!” he repeated. “He never picked it out, I picked it out for + him. You don't know the first principles of sellin', Ras. If you had me to + help around here you wouldn't have so many stickers in your stock.” + </p> + <p> + Beebe, gazing after the retreating figure of Mr. Bangs, sniffed. + </p> + <p> + “If I had your brass, Raish,” he observed, calmly, “I'd sell it to the + junk man and get rich. Well, maybe I won't have so many stickers, as you + call 'em, if that little critter comes here often. What's the matter with + him; soft in the head?” + </p> + <p> + “Isn't this his hat—the one he wore when he came in here?” queried + Mrs. Jubal Doane, one of the two customers. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beebe picked it up. “Guess so,” he replied. “Humph! I've seen that hat + often enough, too. Used to belong to Cap'n Jim Phipps, that hat did. Seen + him wear it a hundred times.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Becky Blount, the other customer, elevated the tip of a long nose. + “Well,” she observed, “if Martha Phipps is lendin' him her pa's hats SO + early, I must say—” + </p> + <p> + She did not say what it was she must say, but she had said quite enough. + </p> + <p> + Martha herself said something when her boarder appeared beneath his new + headgear. When he removed it, upon entering the dining room, she took it + from his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Is THIS the cap you just bought, Mr. Bangs?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Galusha, meekly. “Do you like it?” + </p> + <p> + She regarded the fuzzy yellow thing with a curious expression. + </p> + <p> + “Do you?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + The reply was astonishingly prompt and emphatic. + </p> + <p> + “I loathe it,” said Galusha. + </p> + <p> + She transferred the stare from the cap to its owner's face. + </p> + <p> + “You do!” she cried. “Then why in the world did you buy it?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs squirmed slightly. “He said I ought to,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Who said so?” + </p> + <p> + “That man—that Mr. Pulcifer. Mr.—ah—Deedee—Beebe, + I mean—was busy, and Mr. Pulcifer insisted on showing me the caps. I + didn't like this one at all, but he talked so much that—that I + couldn't stay and hear him any longer. He makes me very nervous,” he + added, apologetically. “I suppose it is my fault, but—ah—he + does, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you mean to say that you took this—this outrage because + Raish Pulcifer talked you into it?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha smiled sadly. “Well, he—he talked me into it—yes,” he + admitted. “Into the—ah—cap and out of the store. Dear me, + yes.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Martha drew a long breath. + </p> + <p> + “My heavens and earth!” she exclaimed. “And what did you do with father's + hat, the one you wore down there?” + </p> + <p> + Her lodger gasped. “Oh, dear, dear!” he exclaimed. “Oh, dear me! I must + have left it in the shop. I'm SO sorry. How could I do such a careless + thing? I'll go for it at once, Miss Phipps.” + </p> + <p> + He would have gone forthwith, but she stopped him. + </p> + <p> + “I'm goin' there myself in a little while,” she said. “I've got some other + errands there. And, if you don't mind,” she added, “I'd like to take this + new cap of yours with me. That is, if you can bear to part with it.” + </p> + <p> + She went soon afterward and when she returned she had another cap, a sane, + respectable cap, one which was not a “sticker.” + </p> + <p> + “I took it on myself to change the other one for this, Mr. Bangs,” she + said. “I like it lots better myself. Of course it wasn't my affair at all + and I suppose I ought to beg your pardon.” + </p> + <p> + He hastened to reassure her. + </p> + <p> + “Please don't speak so, Miss Phipps,” he begged. “It was very, very kind + of you. And I like this cap VERY much. I do, really.... I ought to have a + guardian, hadn't I?” he added. + </p> + <p> + It was precisely what she was thinking at the moment and she blushed + guiltily. + </p> + <p> + “Why, what makes you say that?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I'm not saying it, not as an original thought, you know; I'm merely + repeating it. Other people always say it, they've said it ever since I can + remember. Thank you very much for the cap, Miss Phipps.” + </p> + <p> + He was sunnily cheerful and very grateful. There was not the slightest + resentment because of her interference. And yet if she had not interfered + he would have worn the hideous yellow cap and been as cheerful under that. + Pulcifer had imposed upon him and he realized it, but he deliberately + chose being imposed upon rather than listening to the Pulcifer + conversation. He was certainly a queer individual, this lodger of hers. A + learned man evidently, a man apparently at home and sure of himself in a + world long dead, but as helpless as a child in the practical world of + to-day. She liked him, she could not help liking him, and it irritated her + exceedingly to think that men like Raish Pulcifer and Erastus Beebe should + take advantage of his childlike qualities to swindle him, even if the + swindles were but petty. + </p> + <p> + “They shan't do it,” she told Lulie Hallett, the next morning. “Not if I + can help it, they shan't. Somebody ought to look out for the poor thing, + half sick and with nobody of his own within goodness knows how many miles. + I'll look out for him as well as I can while he's here. My conscience + wouldn't let me do anything else. I suppose if I pick out his other things + the way I picked out that cap the whole of East Wellmouth will be talkin'; + but I can't help it, let 'em.” + </p> + <p> + For the matter of that, the Beebes and the Blounts and Doanes were talking + already. And within a fortnight Miss Phipps' prophecy was fulfilled, the + whole of East Wellmouth WAS talking of Galusha Bangs. Some of the talk was + malicious and scandalous gossip, of course, but most of it was fathered by + an intense and growing curiosity concerning the little man. Who was he? + What was his real reason for coming to East Wellmouth to live—in the + WINTER time? What made him spend so many hours in the old cemetery? Was he + crazy, as some people declared, or merely “kind of simple,” which was the + opinion of others? Mr. Pulcifer's humorous summing-up was freely quoted. + </p> + <p> + “He may not be foolish now,” observed Raish, “but he will be if he lives + very long with that bunch down to the lighthouse. Old Cap'n Jeth and Zach + and Primmie Cash are enough to start anybody countin' their fingers. My + opinion is, if you want to know, that this Bangs feller is just a little + mite cracked on the subject of Egyptians and Indians and gravestones—probably + he's read a lot about 'em and it's sprained his mind, as you might say. + That would account for the big yarns he tells Prim about Africa and such. + As to why he's come here to live, I cal'late I've got the answer to that. + He's poorer'n poverty and it's cheap livin' down at Martha Phipps's. How + do I know he's poor? Cripes t'mighty, look at his clothes! Don't look much + like yours or mine, do they?” + </p> + <p> + They certainly did not look much like Mr. Pulcifer's. Galusha's trunk had + arrived at last, but the garments in it were as drab and old-fashioned and + “floppy” as those he wore on his arrival. Horatio was invariably arrayed + like a lily of the field—if by that term is meant a tiger lily. + Raish generally finished his appraisal by adding, patronizingly: + </p> + <p> + “He's all right, though, old Galushy is. Nothin' harmful about him. See + how easy I get along with him. I shake hands with him and hit him a clip + on the back, and, gosh t'mighty, he thinks I'm his best friend on earth. + He'd do anything for me, that old owl would.” + </p> + <p> + And, perhaps, because it was given forth with such authority from the + Pulcifer Mount Sinai, the fact that Bangs was very poor and was living at + Gould's Bluffs because of that poverty came to be accepted in East + Wellmouth as a settled fact. So quickly and firmly was it settled that, a + month later, Erastus Beebe, leaning over his counter in conversation with + a Boston traveling salesman, said, as Galusha passed the store: + </p> + <p> + “Queer-lookin' customer, ain't he? One of our town characters, as you + might say. Pretends he's been all over creation, but the truth is he lives + down here by the lighthouse and is poorer than the last pullet in Job's + coop. Kind of an inventor, or book writer, or some such crazy thing. Queer + how that kind get that way, ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Is that all he does for a living?” asked the salesman. + </p> + <p> + “Don't do much of that, seems so, nowadays. Spends most of his time + copyin' off tombstone-writin' over in the old Baptist graveyard. Seems to + LIKE to be there, he does. Thunder sakes! a graveyard is the last place + I'd spend MY time in.” + </p> + <p> + The Bostonian made the obvious retort that it was probably the last place + Mr. Beebe WOULD spend his time in. + </p> + <p> + Galusha, of course, was not in the least aware of the East Wellmouth + estimate of himself, his fortune and his activities. He would not have + been interested had he known. He was enjoying himself hugely, was gaining + daily in health, strength, and appetite, and was becoming thoroughly + acquainted with Gould's Bluffs, its surroundings, and its people. + </p> + <p> + He made many calls at the lighthouse nowadays. These calls were not + especially for the purpose of cultivating Captain Jethro's acquaintance, + although the rugged, bigoted old light keeper afforded an interesting + study in character. The captain's moods varied. Sometimes he talked freely + and interestingly of his experiences at sea and as keeper of the light. + His stories of wrecks and life-saving were well told and Galusha enjoyed + them. He cared less for Jethro's dissertations on investments and deals + and shrewd trades. It was plain that the old man prided himself upon them, + however. On one occasion Mr. Bangs happened to mention Martha Phipps and + hinted at his own fear that his lodging at the Phipps' home was in the + nature of an imposition upon the lady's good nature. The light keeper + shook his shaggy head impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, no,” he growled, “'tain't any such thing. Your boardin' there's a + good thing for Martha. She needs the money.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha was troubled. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry to hear that,” he said. “She is not—ah—not pinched + for means, I hope. Not that that is my business, of course,” he added, + hastily. + </p> + <p> + Captain Jeth's reply was gruff and rather testy. + </p> + <p> + “She'll come out all right,” he said, “if she's willin' to do as I do and + wait. I know I'll come out right. Julia told me so, herself.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha had forgotten, momentarily. + </p> + <p> + “Julia?” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “My WIFE.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh—oh, yes, yes, of course.” + </p> + <p> + In these conversations Bangs learned to steer the talk as far as possible + from the subjects of life beyond the grave or of spirit communications. + The slightest touch here and the captain was off, his eyes shining beneath + his heavy brows, and his face working with belligerent emotion. A hint of + doubt or contradiction and trouble followed immediately. + </p> + <p> + “Don't argue with me,” roared Cap'n Jethro. “I KNOW.” + </p> + <p> + Lulie and Galusha had many chats together. He had liked her at first sight + and soon she came to like him. + </p> + <p> + “He's as funny and odd as can he,” she told Martha, “and you never can + tell what he may say or do next. But he's awfully nice, just the same.” + </p> + <p> + Little by little she confided to him her hopes and doubts and fears, the + hopes of her own love story and the doubts and fears concerning her + father. + </p> + <p> + “He isn't well,” she said, referring to the latter. “He pretends he is, + but he isn't. And all this consulting with mediums and getting messages + and so on is very bad for him, I know it is. Do you believe in it at all, + Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha looked doubtful. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he replied, “it would be presumptuous for one like me to say it is + all nonsense. Men like Conan Doyle and Lodge and Doctor Hyslop are not + easy dupes and their opinions are entitled to great respect. But it seems—ah—well, + I am afraid that a majority of the so-called mediums are frauds.” + </p> + <p> + “ALL of father's mediums are that kind,” declared Lulie, emphatically. “I + know it. Most of them are frauds for money, but there are some, like that + ridiculous Marietta Hoag, who pretend to go into trances and get messages + just because they like to be the center of a sensation. They like to have + silly people say, 'Isn't it wonderful!' Marietta Hoag's 'control,' as she + calls it, is a Chinese girl. She must speak spirit Chinese, because no + Chinese person on earth ever talked such gibberish. Control! SHE ought to + be controlled—by the keeper of an asylum.” + </p> + <p> + The indignation expressed upon Lulie's pretty face was so intense that + Galusha suspected an especial reason. + </p> + <p> + “Is—ah—is this Marietta person the medium who—who—” + he began. + </p> + <p> + “Who set father against Nelson? Yes, she is. I'd like to shake her, + mischief-making thing. Father liked Nelson well enough before that, but he + came home from that seance as bitter against him as if the poor boy had + committed murder. Marietta told him that a small dark man was trying to + take away his daughter, or some such silliness. Nelson isn't very small + nor VERY dark, but he was the only male in sight that came near answering + the description. As a matter of fact—” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated, colored, and looked as if she had said more than she + intended. Galusha, who had not noticed her embarrassment, asked her to go + on. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she said, in some confusion, “I was going to say that if it hadn't + been Nelson it would probably have been some one else. You see, I am + father's only child and so—and so—” + </p> + <p> + “And so he doesn't like the idea of giving you up to some one else.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that's it. But it wouldn't be giving me up. It would be merely + sharing me, that's all. I never shall leave father and I've told him so + ever so many times.... Oh, dear! If you could have known him in the old + days, Mr. Bangs, before he—well, when he was himself, big and strong + and hearty. He used to laugh then; he hardly ever laughs now. He and Cap'n + Jim Phipps—Martha's father—were great friends. You would have + liked Cap'n Jim, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am sure I should.” + </p> + <p> + “So am I. Martha is very much like him. She's a dear, isn't she?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha nodded. “She has been very kind to me,” he said. “Indeed, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she is to every one. She is always just like that. I am very glad you + have decided to board with her this winter, Mr. Bangs. I have an idea that + she has been—well, troubled about something; just what, of course, I + don't know, although I think—but there, I mustn't guess because it + is not my business.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha expressed a wish that he might become better acquainted with + Nelson Howard. + </p> + <p> + “I am sure I should like him,” he said. “He seems like a very nice young + man.” + </p> + <p> + Lulie nodded radiantly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he is,” she cried. “Truly he is, Mr. Bangs. Why, every one says—” + Then, becoming aware of her enthusiasm, she blushed and begged pardon. + “You see, I hear so much against him—from father, I mean—that + I couldn't help acting silly when you praised him. Do forgive me, won't + you, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + He would have forgiven her much more than that. + </p> + <p> + “I shall make it a point to go over to the South Wellmouth station and + call upon him,” he told her. She thanked him. + </p> + <p> + “I am hoping that you and Martha and Nelson and I may spend an evening + together pretty soon,” she said. “You see, father—but there, that's + another secret. I'll tell you in a little while, next week, I hope.” + </p> + <p> + He learned the secret from Martha. On a day in the following week Miss + Phipps informed her lodger that he and she were to have supper at the + light keeper's that evening. + </p> + <p> + “It's a real sort of party,” declared Martha. “Small but select, as they + used to say in books when I was a girl. There will be four of us, you and + I and Nelson Howard and Lulie.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha was surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Nelson Howard!” he repeated. “Why, dear me, I thought—I understood + that Mr. Howard was persona non grata to Captain Hallett.” + </p> + <p> + Martha nodded. “Well, if that means what I suppose it does, he is,” she + replied. “If Cap'n Jeth knew Nelson was goin' to eat supper in his house + he'd go without eatin' himself to stop it. But, you see, he doesn't know. + Jethro is goin' spiritualizin' to-night. Marietta Hoag and Ophelia Beebe + and their crowd of rattleheads have dug up a brand new medium who is + visitin' over in Trumet and they've made up a party to go there and hold a + seance. When they told Cap'n Jeth, of course nothin' would do but he must + go, too. So, WHILE he is gone Nelson is comin' over to supper. It's + deceivin' the old man, in one way, of course, but it isn't doin' him a bit + of harm. And it does give the young folks a pleasant time, and I think + they deserve it. Lulie has been as kind and forbearin' with her father as + a daughter could be, and Nelson has been more patient than the average + young fellow, by a good deal.” + </p> + <p> + Late that afternoon two automobiles laden with humanity, male and female, + drove past the Phipps' gate, and Primmie, from the window, announced that + it was “Marietta and 'Phelia and the rest of 'em. My savin' soul, ain't + they talkin' though! Cal'late the sperits 'll have busy times this + evenin', don't you, Miss Martha?” A few minutes later she proclaimed that + Cap'n Jeth had just climbed aboard and that the autos were coming back. + </p> + <p> + “See! See, Mr. Bangs!” she cried, pointing. “There's Cap'n Jeth, settin' + between Marietta and 'Phelia Beebe. There's the three of 'em on the back + seat. Cap'n Jeth's the one with the whiskers.” + </p> + <p> + At six o'clock Martha and her lodger walked over to the Hallett house. + Miss Phipps was dressed in her best gown and looked the personification of + trim, comfortable New England femininity. Galusha was garbed in the suit + he wore the evening of his arrival, but it had been newly sponged and + pressed. + </p> + <p> + “It looks lots better,” observed Martha, inspecting him as they walked + along. “It wouldn't have, though, if Primmie had finished the job. I was + so busy that I let her start on it, but when I saw what a mess she was + makin' I had to drop everything else and do it myself.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha looked puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” he said, politely. “Oh, yes, yes. Yes, indeed.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “I do believe you don't know what I'm talkin' about,” she said. “Now, do + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—ah—why, Miss Phipps, I confess I—I—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I declare! I never saw a person like you in my life. Didn't you + notice ANY difference in that suit of clothes?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs, looking downward, suddenly became aware of his immaculate + appearance. He was very much upset. + </p> + <p> + “I—I don't know what you must think of me,” he stammered. “I have + been—that is, I was thinking of other things and I—Dear me! + Oh, dear! I am VERY grateful to you. But you shouldn't take so much + trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “It wasn't any trouble. The suit was hangin' in your closet and I noticed + how wrinkled and out of shape it was. And the stains on the trousers—my!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—ah—yes. I wore it over at the cemetery the other day and + I—ah—imagine I must have gotten down on my knees to examine + the tombstones.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess likely. It looked as if you might have crawled from here to the + cemetery and back. Now don't say any more, Mr. Bangs. It was no trouble at + all. I always used to take care of father's clothes. He used to say I kept + him all taut and shipshape.” + </p> + <p> + Lulie met them at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Primmie?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “She'll be over pretty soon,” replied Martha. “I knew you wouldn't need + her yet to help with the supper and the longer she stays away the more + talk there will be for the rest of us. She is to eat in the kitchen, + Lulie, remember that. I WON'T have her chatterin' all through our meal.” + </p> + <p> + “She and Zacheus are to eat together,” replied Lulie. “It is all settled. + Now if Nelson will only come. He is going to get away just as soon as the + down train leaves.” + </p> + <p> + He arrived soon afterward, having bicycled over from South Wellmouth. + Primmie arrived also and bursts of her energetic conversation, punctuated + by grumblings in Mr. Bloomer's bass, drifted in from the kitchen. Supper + was a happy meal. Young Howard, questioned by Martha and Lulie—the + latter evidently anxious to “show off” her lover—told of his + experiences aboard one of Uncle Sam's transports and the narrow escape + from a German submarine. Galusha, decoyed by Miss Phipps, was led into + Egypt and discoursed concerning that marvelous country. Lulie laughed and + chatted and was engagingly charming and vivacious. Martha was her own + cheerful self and the worried look disappeared, for the time, from her + face. + </p> + <p> + After supper was over, the ladies helped Primmie clear the table while the + men sat in the sitting room and smoked. The sitting room of the light + keeper's home was even more nautical than that at the Phipps' place. There + was no less than six framed paintings of ships and schooners on the walls, + and mantel and what-not bore salt-water curios of many kinds handed down + by generations of seafaring Halletts—whales' teeth, little ships in + bottles, idols from the South Sea islands, bead and bone necklaces, Eskimo + lance-heads and goodness knows what. And below the windows, at the foot of + the bluff on the ocean side, the great waves pounded and muttered and + growled, while high above the chimneys of the little house Gould's Bluffs + light thrust its flashing spear of flame deep into the breast of the black + night. + </p> + <p> + It was almost half past eight when Martha Phipps, whose seat was near the + front window of the sitting room, held up a warning hand. + </p> + <p> + “Listen!” she cried. “Isn't that an automobile comin'?” + </p> + <p> + It undoubtedly was. Apparently more than one motor car was approaching + along the sandy road leading from the village to the lighthouse. + </p> + <p> + “Who in the world is it?” asked Martha, drawing aside the window shade and + trying to peer out. “Lulie, you don't think it can be—” + </p> + <p> + Lulie looked troubled, but she shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “No, it can't be,” she declared. “The seance was to be away over in Trumet + and it is sure to last hours. They couldn't have gone as far as that and—” + </p> + <p> + She was interrupted. From the dining room came the sound of rushing feet. + Primmie burst into the room. She was wildly excited. + </p> + <p> + “My Lord of Isrul, Miss Martha!” she cried. “It's them come back. It is, + it is, it is!” + </p> + <p> + “Who? Who, Primmie?” demanded Miss Phipps. “Stop flappin' your wings—arms, + I mean. Who's come back?” + </p> + <p> + “The sperit folks. All hands of 'em, Marietta and 'Phelia Beebe and Abe + Hardin' and Cap'n Jeth and all. And—and they're comin' in here—and + here's Nelson right where Cap'n Jeth can catch him. Oh, my savin' soul!” + </p> + <p> + From behind her agitated shoulder peered the countenance of Mr. Bloomer. + </p> + <p> + “She's right, Lulie,” observed Zach, with calm emphasis. “The whole crew + of ghost seiners is back here in port again, Cap'n Jeth and all. Better + beat for open water, hadn't you, Nelse, eh? Be the divil to pay if you + don't.... Godfreys, yes!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <p> + The announcement exploded like a bomb in the midst of the little group in + the light keeper's sitting room. Lulie turned a trifle pale and looked + worried and alarmed. Martha uttered an exclamation, dropped the window + shade and turned toward her young friend. Mr. Bangs looked from one to the + other and was plainly very anxious to help in some way but not certain how + to begin. Of the four Nelson Howard, the one most concerned, appeared + least disturbed. It was he who spoke first and his tone was brisk and + businesslike. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Lulie,” he said, “what do you want me to do? Shall I stay and face + it out? I don't mind. There's nothing for us to be ashamed of, you know.” + </p> + <p> + But Lulie shook her head. “Oh, no, no, Nelson,” she cried, “you mustn't. + You had better go, right away. There will be a scene, and with all those + people here—” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phipps put in a word. “But perhaps Nelson's right, after all, Lulie,” + she said. “There is no reason in the world why he shouldn't come to see + you, and maybe he and Cap'n Jeth might as well have a plain understandin' + now as any time.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Hallett's agitation increased. “Oh, no,” she cried, again. “Don't you + see it mustn't happen, on father's account? You know how he—you know + how excited and—and almost violent he gets when any one crosses him + nowadays. I'm afraid something might happen to him. I'm afraid. Please go, + Nelson, for my sake.” + </p> + <p> + The young man nodded. “Of course, Lulie,” he declared. “You're perfectly + right. I'm off. Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + He was hastening toward the dining room door, but Primmie, dancing up and + down like a jumping jack, barred his way. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, no,” she squealed, “you can't—you can't. They're almost to + the door now. He'll catch you sure. He WILL. Oh, my Lord of Isrul!” + </p> + <p> + Sure enough, the latch of the door leading from the side porch to the + dining room was rattling at that moment. Fortunately the door itself was + hooked on the inside. Nelson hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he grunted. “Could I get through to the kitchen and out that way, + do you think, Zach?” + </p> + <p> + “Godfreys, no! Not with them winder curtains strung up higher'n Haman the + way they be. No, no! Godfreys!” + </p> + <p> + Martha stepped across the sitting room and flung open another door on the + opposite side. As she did so there sounded a prodigious thumping from the + side porch and the bull-like voice of Captain Hallett bellowed his + daughter's name. + </p> + <p> + “Go let 'em in, Lulie,” whispered Martha. “I'll look out for things here. + Quick, Nelson, out this way, through the front hall and out the front + door. QUICK!” + </p> + <p> + Captain Jeth was accompanying his shouts by thumping upon the side of the + house. Lulie, after one desperate glance at her lover, hurried to the + dining room. Young Howard hesitated a moment. + </p> + <p> + “My hat and coat?” he whispered. “Where are they?” + </p> + <p> + They were hanging in the entry upon the door of which the captain was + thumping. Zach hastened to get them, but before he reached the dining room + they heard the outer door open and Jeth's voice demanding to know why + Lulie had kept him waiting so long. Nelson, with a somewhat rueful smile + and a wave of the hand to Martha and Galusha, dodged into the blackness of + the front hall. Miss Phipps closed the door after him. The conspirators + looked at each other. Primmie's mouth opened but the expansive hand of Mr. + Bloomer promptly covered it and the larger part of her face as well. + </p> + <p> + “This ain't no time to holler about your savin' soul,” whispered Zacheus, + hoarsely. “This is the time to shut up. And KEEP shut up. You be still, + Dandelion!” + </p> + <p> + Primmie obeyed orders and was still. But even if she had shrieked it is + doubtful if any one in the dining room could have heard her. The “ghost + seiners,” quoting from Mr. Bloomer, were pouring through the entry and, as + all were talking at once, the clatter of tongues would have drowned out + any shriek of ordinary volume. A moment later the Halletts, father and + daughter, led the way into the sitting room. Lulie's first procedure was + to glance quickly about the apartment. A look of relief crossed her face + and she and Martha Phipps exchanged glances. + </p> + <p> + “Father has—he has come back,” was her somewhat superfluous + explanation. Captain Jethro noted the superfluity. + </p> + <p> + “Cal'late they can see that for themselves, Lulie,” he observed. “How are + you, Martha? Evenin', Mr. Bangs. Everything all right about the light, + Zach?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay, sir,” was Mr. Bloomer's nautical reply. The captain grunted. + </p> + <p> + “Better go look at it,” he said. Turning, he called over his shoulder, + “Come in, all hands.” + </p> + <p> + “All hands,” that is, the company in the dining room—came in. There + were fourteen of them, all told, and, as Martha Phipps told Galusha Bangs + afterward, “If you had run a net from one end of Ostable County to the + other you wouldn't have landed more freaks than there were in that house + at that minute.” The majority were women and the few men in the party + looked as if each realized himself a minority at home and abroad. + </p> + <p> + “Set down, everybody,” commanded Captain Jethro. “Lulie, you better help + me fetch in them dining-room chairs. We'll need 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “But, father,” begged Lulie, “what are you going to do?” + </p> + <p> + “Do? We're goin' to have a meetin', that's what we're goin' to do. Set + down, all of you that can. We'll have chairs for the rest in a minute.” + </p> + <p> + “But, father—” began Lulie, again. The captain interrupted her. “Be + still,” he ordered, irritably. “Marietta, you set over here by the + melodeon. That'll be about right for you, will it?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Marietta Hoag was a short, dumpy female with a face which had been + described by Zach Bloomer as resembling a “pan of dough with a couple of + cranberries dropped into it.” She wore a blue hat with a red bow and a + profusion of small objects—red cherries and purple grapes—bobbing + on wires above it. The general effect, quoting Mr. Bloomer again, was “as + if somebody had set off a firecracker in a fruit-peddler's cart.” The + remainder of her apparel was more subdued. + </p> + <p> + She removed the explosive headgear and came forward in response to the + light keeper's command. She looked at the chair by the ancient parlor + organ and announced: “Yes, indeed, it'll do real well, thank you, Cap'n + Jethro.” Her voice was a sharp soprano with liquid gurgles in it—“like + pourin' pain-killer out of a bottle,” this last still another quotation + from the book of Zacheus. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Captain Jeth, “then we'll begin. We've wasted enough + time cruisin' way over to Trumet and back for nothin'. No need to waste + any more. Set down, all hands, and come to order. Lulie, you and Martha + and the rest of you set down, too.” + </p> + <p> + “But, father,” urged his daughter again, “I don't understand. What are you + going to do?” + </p> + <p> + “Goin' to have a meetin', I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “But what sort of a meeting?” + </p> + <p> + “A seance. We cruised clear over to Trumet to hear that Brockton medium + that was stayin' at Obed Taylor's there and when we got to Obed's we found + she'd been called back home unexpected and had left on this afternoon's + train. So we came back here and Marietta's goin' to try to get in + communication herself. That's all there is to it.... Now don't waste any + more time askin' fool questions. Set down. Martha Phipps, what are you and + Mr. Bangs standin' up for?” + </p> + <p> + Martha's answer was quietly given. + </p> + <p> + “Why, good gracious, Jethro!” she observed, “why shouldn't we stand up? + Mr. Bangs and I came over to spend the evenin' with Lulie. We didn't know + you and Marietta and Ophelia and the rest were goin' to hold any—er—what + do you call 'em?—seances. We'll run right along and leave you to + enjoy yourselves. Come, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + For some reason or other this reply appeared to irritate the light keeper + exceedingly. He glared at her. + </p> + <p> + “Set down, both of you,” he ordered. “I want you to. 'Twill do you good. + No, you ain't goin', neither. Lulie, you tell 'em to stay here.” + </p> + <p> + His manner was so determined and the light in his eye so ominous that his + daughter was alarmed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do stay, Martha,” she pleaded. “Won't you please stay, you and Mr. + Bangs? I think it will be for the best, truly I do. Please stay.” + </p> + <p> + Martha looked at her lodger. Galusha smiled. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be very glad to remain,” he observed. “Indeed yes, really.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phipps nodded. “All right, Lulie,” she said, quietly. “We'll stay.” + </p> + <p> + They took chairs in the back row of the double circle. Primmie, eyes and + mouth open and agog with excitement, had already seated herself. Captain + Jethro looked about the room. + </p> + <p> + “Are we all ready,” he growled. “Eh? Who's that comin'? Oh, it's you. + Well, set down and keep quiet.” + </p> + <p> + It was Mr. Bloomer who had re-entered the room and was received so + unceremoniously. He glanced at Galusha Bangs, winked the eye which the + captain could not see, and sat down next to Primmie. + </p> + <p> + “Now then,” said Captain Jeth, who was evidently master of ceremonies, “if + you're all ready, Marietta, I cal'late we are. Cast off! Heave ahead!” + </p> + <p> + But Miss Hoag seemed troubled; evidently she was not ready to cast off and + heave ahead. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, Cap'n Jeth,” she faltered, “I CAN'T. Don't you KNOW I + can't? Everybody's got to take hands—and the lights must be turned + way down—and—and we've GOT to have some music.” + </p> + <p> + The captain pulled his beard. “Humph!” he grunted. “That's so, I forgot. + Don't know what's the matter with me to-night, seem to be kind of—of + upset or somethin'. Zach, turn them lamps down; more'n that, way down + low.... That'll do. Now all hands hold hands. Make a—a kind of ring + out of yourselves. That's it. Now what else was it, Marietta?” + </p> + <p> + “Music,” faltered Miss Hoag, who seemed rather overawed by the captain's + intensity and savage earnestness. “We always have music, you know, to + establish the—the contact. Have somebody play the organ. 'Phelia, + you play it; you know how.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Ophelia Beebe, sister of the village storekeeper, was a tall, angular + woman garbed in black. Her facial expression was as mournful as her + raiment. She rose with a rustle and moved toward the ancient melodeon. + Lulie spoke hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + “No, no, Ophelia,” she protested, “it isn't any use. That old thing has + been out of order for—why, for years. No one could possibly play on + it. No one has for ever and ever so long. Father knows it perfectly well.” + </p> + <p> + Again Captain Jethro tugged at his beard. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he grunted. “'Tis out of order; I remember now.... Humph! I—I + forgot that. Well, we'll have to have some sort of music. Can anybody + that's here play on anything?” + </p> + <p> + There was silence for a moment. Then a thin masculine voice from the + dimness made proclamation. + </p> + <p> + “I can play on the fiddle,” it said; and then added, as if in + afterthought, “some.” + </p> + <p> + There was a rustle in the corner from which the voice had come. Mutterings + and whisperings arose. “Don't talk so foolish!” “Well, Sary, he asked if + anybody could play on anything and I—” “Be still, I tell you! I + declare if there's any chance for a person to make a jumpin' numbskull out + of himself in front of folks I'll trust you to be right on deck.” “Now, + Sary, what are you goin' on like this for? I only just—” + </p> + <p> + The dispute was growing louder and more violent. Captain Jethro roared a + command for silence. + </p> + <p> + “What's all this?” he demanded. “Silence there for'ard!” He waited an + instant and then asked, “Who was it said they could play the fiddle? Was + it you, Abel Hardin'?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Abel Harding, clam digger and fish purveyor, resident in South + Wellmouth, acknowledged his identity. + </p> + <p> + “Yus, Cap'n Jeth,” he declared. “I said I could play the fiddle, and I + can, too. Sary B., she says—” + </p> + <p> + “Sarah B.”—otherwise Mrs. Abel Harding—interrupted. “He can't + play nothin' but two jig tunes and he plays them like the very Old + Scratch,” she snapped, with emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I never said I was anything great at it, did I? I said I can play + some, and I can. If you'd just keep your tongue to home and leave me be I—” + </p> + <p> + “SILENCE!” shouted the light keeper again. The domestic squabble broke off + in the middle and some irreverent giggles from other sections of the + circle subsided. Captain Jethro's indignant gaze swept the group. Primmie + said afterward, “You couldn't see him glare at you, but you could FEEL him + doin' it.” When the stillness was absolute the captain asked, “Where is + your fiddle, Abel?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” Mr. Harding paused and cleared his throat. “Why,” he stammered, + “it's—it's to home. Er—er—that's where I keep it, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” Captain Jethro's scorn was withering. “And home is eleven mile + away or such matter. How much good is your bein' able to play on it goin' + to do us when 'tain't here for you to play on?” + </p> + <p> + There were discreet snickers from the dimness. Mrs. Hardin's voice was + audible, saying, “There, I told you so, foolhead.” The captain once more + ordered and obtained silence. + </p> + <p> + “We've had enough of this,” he growled. “This ain't a play-actin' show to + laugh at. If we can't behave accordin' as we should we'll give it up. + Marietta says she can't get into contact with the sperit world without + music. Would it do if we was to sing somethin', Marietta?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Hoag faltered that she didn't know's she hardly believed 'twould. “I + always HAVE had some sort of instrumental music, Cap'n Jethro. Don't seem + to me's if I could hardly get along without it.” + </p> + <p> + The captain grunted again. “Can't anybody play ANYTHING?” he demanded. + “Anything that's within hailin' distance, I mean.” + </p> + <p> + Another silent interval. And then a voice said, timidly, “I can play the + mouth organ.” + </p> + <p> + It was Primmie's voice and as she was sitting next Zach Bloomer, who was + next Galusha Bangs, the unexpectedness of it made the latter jump. Miss + Phipps, next in line on Galusha's left, jumped likewise. + </p> + <p> + “Primmie,” she said, sharply, “don't be silly.” + </p> + <p> + “But I CAN, Miss Martha. You know I can. Zach knows it, too. You've heard + me, ain't you, Zach? Ain't you? Ain't you?” + </p> + <p> + Thus urged, Mr. Bloomer answered, “I've heard you,” he said. And added, + fervently and under his breath, “Godfreys!” + </p> + <p> + “Primmie,” began Martha, again, but Captain Jethro broke in. + </p> + <p> + “Quiet, Martha Phipps,” he ordered. “Stop your talkin', all hands. + Marietta, do you cal'late you could get under way with mouth organ music?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, I don't know. Maybe I could if—if it played church + tunes.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you play hymn tunes, Primmie?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. I can play 'Sweet By and By' and 'Brighten the Corner Where You + Be' and 'Pack up Your Troubles in Your Old Kit Bag.' No, that ain't one, + is it? But I can play—” + </p> + <p> + “Where's your mouth organ now?” + </p> + <p> + “It's in my jacket pocket out yonder in the kitchen.” + </p> + <p> + “Go fetch it.” + </p> + <p> + Sounds as of one individual falling over others, accompanied by + exclamations and confusion, indicated that Miss Cash was going in search + of the instrument. Lulie made one more attempt at persuasion. + </p> + <p> + “Father,” she pleaded, “what makes you try to hold a seance to-night? + You've been 'way over to Trumet and back and you must be tired. You aren't + very well, you know, and all this excitement isn't good for you. Won't you + please—” + </p> + <p> + Her father stamped his foot. “Set down,” he shouted. “I know what I'm + doin'. This is my house and I'll do as I please in it. Stop! I don't want + to hear any more. Where's that Cash girl?” + </p> + <p> + Primmie was returning bearing the mouth organ. She plowed through the + circle like an armored tank through a wire entanglement and reached the + light keeper's side. + </p> + <p> + “Here I be,” she announced, “and here 'tis. Shall I commence to begin now? + Where do you want me to set?” + </p> + <p> + She was given a seat in the front row, facing the medium. Captain Hallett, + after some final instructions to Zacheus concerning the turning lower of + one of the lamps and a last order for stillness, gave the command. + </p> + <p> + “All ready! Heave ahead!” + </p> + <p> + Miss Hoag leaned back in her rocking-chair and closed her eyes. Primmie + drew a long breath and the first bars of the “Sweet By and By” were + forcibly evicted from the harmonica. Zach Bloomer, the irrepressible, + leaned over and breathed into his neighbor's ear. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Mr. Bangs,” he whispered, “if you was a sperit would you leave a + comf'table berth up aloft to come and anchor alongside THAT noise?” + </p> + <p> + The “noise” became more enthusiastic as the musician warmed to her work. + Miss Hoag stirred uneasily in her chair. Captain Jethro bent toward her. + </p> + <p> + “Tell her not to play so LOUD,” whispered Marietta. The captain obeyed. + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, Primmie,” he said, irritably. “Go easy on it, soften her + down. Play low. And stop stompin' out the time with your foot.” + </p> + <p> + Thus cautioned Miss Cash played low, very low, and also very slowly. “The + Sweet By and By” droned on, over and over, in the dark stuffiness of the + crowded room. Galusha Bangs, who had been at first much amused, began to + be bored. Incidentally he was extremely sorry for Lulie, poor girl, who + was compelled to be present at this ridiculous exhibition of her father's + obsession. Heavy breathing sounded near at hand, growing steadily heavier + until it became a snore. The snore broke off in the middle and with a + sharp and most unchurchly ejaculation, as if the snorer had been awakened + suddenly and painfully. Galusha fancied he recognized Mr. Harding's voice. + Primmie ended her thirty-second rendition of the “Sweet By and By” chorus + and began the thirty-third. + </p> + <p> + Then Miss Hoag began to groan. The first groan was so loud and unexpected + that Miss Cash gasped “My savin' soul!” into the mouth organ. Marietta + continued to groan, also to pound the floor with her heels. In her + capacity as “medium” she, like other mediums—mediums of her stripe, + that is—was “getting under control.” + </p> + <p> + Then followed the usual sort of thing which follows at this sort of + seance. Miss Hoag, through her “control,” began to receive and transmit + “messages.” The control spoke in a kind of husky howl, so to speak, and + used a lingo most unusual on this plane, however common it may be + elsewhere. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs was startled when first favored with a sample of this—literally—unearthly + elocution. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear me!” he exclaimed. “Oh, dear! WHY does she do that? Is—is + she ill?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Beebe answered, from her place in the circle. “It's her sperit + control talkin' now,” she whispered. “She's controlled by a China woman.” + </p> + <p> + “Name of Little Cherry Blossom,” whispered Mr. Harding. + </p> + <p> + “Sshh!” said several voices, indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “Allee samee comee manee namee Johnee,” announced Little Cherry Blossom. + “Anybody heree knowee manee Johnee?” + </p> + <p> + Several did, of course, and John was soon undergoing cross-examination. He + proved to be the cousin of Mrs. Hannah Peters' first husband who was + drowned on the Grand Banks fifteen or sixteen years before. “John-ee” was, + like so many of his kind, a bit shaky on names and dates but strong on + generalities. However, everybody except the few skeptics from the Phipps' + place seemed satisfied and made no embarrassing comments. + </p> + <p> + Everybody but Mr. Bloomer, that is; Zacheus, the philosopher who had + studied his profession aboard a lightship, commented on everything. + Sitting next Mr. Bangs, he put his lips close to the ear of the last-named + gentleman and breathed caustic sarcasm into it. Galusha found it + distracting and, at times, annoying, for Mr. Bloomer's mustache was + bristly. + </p> + <p> + “Little Cherry Blossom talks's if she had a cold,” whispered Zach. “Better + take a little cherry rum, hadn't she, eh?” + </p> + <p> + The control was loudly paging a person named Noah. + </p> + <p> + “Sperit heree wantee talkee with Noah,” she cried. “Wheree isee Noah?” + </p> + <p> + “'Board the Ark, most likely,” whispered Mr. Bloomer. “Be hollerin' for + Jonah next, won't she? Cal'late so. Yus, yus.” + </p> + <p> + Message after message came and was recognized and acknowledged by the + devout. The group from the Phipps' house had so far been slighted, so, + too, had Captain Jethro Hallett. There was a slight hubbub in the circle, + owing to the fact that two of its members simultaneously recognized and + laid claim to the same spirit, each declaring him to be or have been an + entirely different person when living. During this little controversy + Zacheus whispered in his neighbor's ear. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Mr. Bangs,” he whispered, “this is gettin' kind of tiresome, ain't + it? Must be worse for Nelse, though, eh?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha did not catch his meaning. “For—for whom?” he asked. “I beg + your pardon.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you're welcome. Why, I mean Nelse Howard must be gettin' more tired + than we be, shut up in that front hall the way he is.” + </p> + <p> + “Shut up—Why, really, I—Mr. Howard left the house long ago, + didn't he? By the front door, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Zach chuckled. “That front door is locked and the key's been lost for + more'n a fortn't. Cal'late Lulie forgot that when she told him to skip out + that way. He can't GET out. He's in that front entry now and he'll have to + stay there till all hands have gone and the cap'n gone to bed. That's a + note, ain't it!... Sshh! They're goin' to begin again.” + </p> + <p> + The identity of the spiritual visitor having been tentatively established, + the “communications” continued. Galusha paid little heed to them. The + thought of young Howard a prisoner in the front hall was uncomfortable of + itself, but still more uncomfortable was the mental picture of what might + happen should his presence there be discovered by Captain Hallett. The old + light keeper was bigoted and absurdly prejudiced against his daughter's + lover at all times. An encounter between them would always be most + unpleasant. But this evening, when the captain was in his most fanatical + mood, for him to find Nelson Howard hiding in his own house—well, + the prospect was almost alarming. + </p> + <p> + Galusha, much troubled in mind, wondered if Lulie had remembered the + locked door and the lost key. Did she realize her fiance's plight? If so, + she must be undergoing tortures at that moment. Nelson, of course, could + take care of himself and was in no danger of physical injury; the danger + was in the effect of the discovery upon Captain Jethro. He was not well, + he was in a highly nervous and excited state. Galusha began to fidget in + his chair. More than ever he wished the seance would end. + </p> + <p> + However, it did not end. The messages continued to come. Apparently the + line of spirits waiting to communicate was as long as that at the ticket + office of a ball park on a pleasant Saturday. And suddenly Mr. Bangs was + startled out of his fidgets by the husky voice of Little Cherry Blossom + calling the name which was in his mind at the moment. + </p> + <p> + “Jethro,” wheezed Little Cherry Blossom. “Jethro. Some one heree wantee + talkee Jethro.” + </p> + <p> + Martha Phipps, sitting next to Galusha, stirred and uttered an impatient + exclamation under her breath. From beyond, where Lulie sat, Galusha caught + a quick gasp and a frightened “Oh, dear!” Zacheus whispered, “Godfreys!” + Primmie bounced up and down with excitement. The circle rustled and then + grew very still. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” growled Captain Jethro, a quaver in his deep voice, “I'm here. It + is—is it you, Julia?” + </p> + <p> + Little Cherry Blossom said that it was. Mr. Bangs heard another sniff of + disgust from Miss Phipps. He was himself thoroughly disgusted and angry. + This mockery of a great sorrow and a great love seemed so wicked and + cruel. Marietta Hoag and her ridiculous control ceased to be ridiculous + and funny. He longed to shake the fat little creature, shake her until her + silly craze for the limelight and desire to be the center of a sensation + were thoroughly shaken out of her. Marietta was not wicked, she was just + silly and vain and foolish, that was all; but at least half of humanity's + troubles are caused by the fools. + </p> + <p> + “Julia,” said Captain Jethro, his big voice trembling as he said it, “I—I'm + here, Julia. What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Julia she say she gladee you heree,” gurgled Little Cherry Blossom. + Martha Phipps drew a breath between her teeth as if in pain. Her hand + squeezed Lulie's tight. She was suffering with the girl. As for Galusha, + sensitive soul that he was, he blushed all over in sympathetic + embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad to be here, Julia,” said the captain. “You know it, too, I guess + likely. Is all well with you, Julia?” + </p> + <p> + Cherry Blossom in horrible pidgin English affirmed that all was well, all + was happiness and delight and bliss in the realm beyond. Galusha did not + hear much of this, he was suffering too acutely to listen. Then he heard + Captain Jethro ask another question. + </p> + <p> + “Is there any special message you've got for me, Julia?” + </p> + <p> + Yes, there was. “Daughter, daughter.” There was some message about a + daughter. + </p> + <p> + “Lulie? Is there somethin' you want to tell me about Lulie, Julia?” + </p> + <p> + “Father!” It was Lulie herself who uttered the exclamation. “Father,” she + cried. “Don't! Oh, don't! Please don't!” + </p> + <p> + Her father's reply was a furious roar. + </p> + <p> + “Stop!” he thundered. “Be still! Don't you say another word!” + </p> + <p> + “But, father, PLEASE—” + </p> + <p> + “Stop!... Julia, Julia... are you there? What is it about Lulie? Tell me.” + </p> + <p> + Little Cherry Blossom herself seemed a bit nervous, for her next message + was given with a trifle less assurance. It was an incoherent repetition + and re-repetition of the word “daughter” and something about “looking out” + and “danger.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Jethro caught at the word. + </p> + <p> + “Danger?” he queried. “Danger for Lulie? Is that what you mean, Julia? I'm + to look out on account of danger comin' for Lulie? Is that it, Julia?” + </p> + <p> + Lulie made one more desperate plea. + </p> + <p> + “Father,” she begged, “please don't! Of course there isn't any danger for + me. This is SO ridiculous.” + </p> + <p> + “Be still, I tell you.... Is that it, Julia? Is it?” Little Cherry Blossom + with some hesitation indicated that that was it. A rustle of excitement + stirred the circle. + </p> + <p> + “What kind of danger?” demanded the light keeper, eagerly. “Can't you tell + me that, Julia?” + </p> + <p> + Apparently she could not, for there was no reply. The captain tried to + help by suggestion. + </p> + <p> + “Danger from—from her bein'—er—hurt?” he suggested. + “Being run over—or—or—drowned or somethin'?” + </p> + <p> + No, that was not it. + </p> + <p> + “Danger from somebody—some person?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” Another rustle of excitement in the circle. The light keeper caught + his breath. + </p> + <p> + “Julia,” he demanded, “do you mean that—that our girl's in danger + from some—some MAN?” + </p> + <p> + “FATHER! I won't stand this. It's perfectly—” + </p> + <p> + “Lulie Hallett, you set down! Set DOWN!” + </p> + <p> + Martha Phipps laid a hand upon the girl's arm. “Don't excite him,” she + whispered. “I'd sit down if I were you, Lulie.” + </p> + <p> + Lulie, trembling with indignation, subsided under protest. Little Cherry + Blossom burst out with a gush of gibberish concerning some man, “bad, + wicked manee,” who was trying to influence “daughter” in some way or + other, just how was not particularly intelligible. Captain Jethro offered + another suggestion. + </p> + <p> + “Julia,” he demanded, “is it the outsider, the small, dark man you said + afore? Is it him?” + </p> + <p> + Yes, it was. The rustle in the circle was now so pronounced as to amount + almost to a disturbance. Mr. Abel Harding whispered audibly, “It's Nelson + Howard she means, don't she?” His wife even more audibly ordered him to + “shut up, for the land sakes.” Primmie dropped the mouth organ on the + floor with a metallic clatter. Startled, she made her customary appeal to + the ruler of Israel. + </p> + <p> + “It's him, eh?” growled the light keeper. “I thought so. I've got my eye + on him, Julia, and he knows it. What's he up to now? Where is he?” + </p> + <p> + “Near her.” + </p> + <p> + “Near her? Here?... In this HOUSE, do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + A moment's hesitation, and then, “Ye-es, I—I shouldn't wonder.” + </p> + <p> + This bit of information, even though unusually qualified considering its + spirit source, caused a genuine sensation. Almost every one said + something. Zach Bloomer whistled shrilly in Mr. Bangs' ear and said, + “Godfreys!” Galusha said, “Oh, dear me!” with distressful emphasis. Martha + Phipps and Lulie clutched each other and the latter uttered a faint + scream. Primmie Cash, who had stooped to pick up the dropped harmonica, + fell on her knees beside it. Captain Jethro stamped and roared for + silence. + </p> + <p> + “Be still!” he shouted. “Stop! STOP! By the everlastin', I'll—I'll—Julia! + Julia!” + </p> + <p> + But Julia did not answer this time. Neither did Little Cherry Blossom. + Whether Miss Hoag was frightened at the effect of her message or whether + she figured that she had caused sensation sufficient for one day are + matters for conjecture. At all events she stirred in her chair and + announced faintly, and in her natural, everyday tones and accent, that she + wished a drink of water. + </p> + <p> + “Where—where be I?” she gasped. “I—Oh, fetch me a drink, + somebody, won't you, please?” + </p> + <p> + The light keeper, paying no need whatever, was shouting his wife's name. + </p> + <p> + “Julia! Julia!” he cried. “Don't go! I want you! I need you!” + </p> + <p> + Lulie called “Father” and hastened toward him. Zacheus whispered in + Galusha's ear that he cal'lated 'twouldn't do no harm to turn on the glim + and proceeded forthwith to turn up the wick of one of the lamps. The + sudden illumination showed Captain Jethro standing in the middle of the + floor, his face flushed, his brows drawn together and his lips twitching. + He was glaring about the room and the expression upon his face was so + fierce that Mr. Bangs said, “Oh, dear me!” again when he saw it. + </p> + <p> + Lulie put her arm about the light keeper's shoulder. “Father, father,” she + pleaded, “please don't look that way. Come and sit down. Please do!” + </p> + <p> + But sitting down was far from the captain's thoughts just then. He + impatiently tossed his daughter's arm aside. + </p> + <p> + “So he's here, is he,” he growled, between his teeth. “He's in my house, + is he? By the everlastin', I'll show him!” + </p> + <p> + Martha Phipps pushed her way toward the pair. + </p> + <p> + “There, there, Jethro,” she said, quietly, “don't act this way. Don't you + see you're frightenin' Lulie half out of her wits? There's nothin' for you + to look so savage about. Come over and sit down and rest. You're tired.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I ain't tired, either. Be quiet, woman. By the Lord, if he's in this + house I'll find him. And WHEN I find him—” + </p> + <p> + “Sshh, sshh! What in the world are you talkin' about? Marietta didn't say—” + </p> + <p> + “Julia—my spirit wife—told me that that skulkin' swab of a + Nelse Howard was here in this house. You heard her. Let go of me, both of + you! Now where is he?” + </p> + <p> + He was turning directly toward the door leading to the front hall. Lulie + was very white and seemed on the point of collapse. Even Miss Phipps, + usually so calm and equal to the emergency, appeared to find this one a + trifle too much for her, for she glanced desperately about as if in search + of help. Zach Bloomer repeated “Godfreys” several times and looked, for + him, almost excited. As for Primmie, she was so frightened as to be + speechless, a miracle far more amazing than any other which the seance had + thus far produced. The remaining members of the circle were whispering in + agitation and staring wide-eyed at the captain and those about him. + </p> + <p> + Then a masculine voice, a very soft, gentle masculine voice, said, “I beg + your pardon, Captain Hallett, but may I—ah—ask a question?” + </p> + <p> + The very gentleness of the voice and the calmness of its tone had more + effect in securing the light keeper's attention than any shout could + possibly have done. Captain Jethro stopped in his stride. + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” he grunted. “Eh? What's that?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha Bangs moved forward, quietly elbowing his way from the back row of + the circle to the open space before the inner line of chairs and their + excited occupants. + </p> + <p> + “It is—ah—I, Captain Hallett,” he observed, calmly, “I wished + to ask a question. You see, I have been very much interested by the—ah—manifestations + here this evening. Very much so, really—indeed, yes.” + </p> + <p> + The light keeper interrupted. “Don't bother me!” he ordered, savagely. + “I'm goin' to find that sneakin' rascal, and—Get out of my way, will + you?” + </p> + <p> + Somehow or other the little Egyptologist had moved forward until, without + appearing to have made an effort to do so, he was directly in the + captain's way—that is, between the latter and the door of the front + hall. The command to get out of the way he acknowledged politely and with + caution. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, of course,” he said, hastily. “I'm very sorry. Very sorry + indeed. I beg your pardon, Captain Hallett. Now there is one point in this + lady's—ah—messages—ah—communications, you know—which + puzzles me somewhat. You see—” + </p> + <p> + “I can't stop to talk to you now. I'm goin' to—WILL you get out of + my way?” + </p> + <p> + “Was I in your way? I BEG your pardon. How clumsy of me! I—ah—You + see, this lady's last message seemed to point so directly in my direction + that I felt constrained to speak. You see, when she, or her—control, + is it?—mentioned my being here in your house and accused me of + having an evil influence upon your daughter, I—well, I was surprised + and—ah—hurt.” + </p> + <p> + A general gasp of astonishment from the circle behind him interrupted. Mr. + Abel Harding shouted “Eh!” and, for a wonder, his wife did not take him to + task for it. For the matter of that, she had uttered an exclamation also. + So had Ophelia Beebe and many others. Zacheus whistled. Primmie once more + referred to her saving soul. Martha Phipps cried out. + </p> + <p> + As for Jethro Hallett, he stared uncomprehendingly at the Bangs' face + which looked so earnestly and gravely up into his. He drew a hand across + his forehead and breathed heavily. + </p> + <p> + “Wha—what are you talkin' about?” he demanded. “Who—who said + anything about you?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha transferred his gaze from the light keeper's countenance to that + of Miss Marietta Hoag. The medium's moonlike visage bore an expression of + intense surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Why—ah—she did,” replied Galusha, gently. “This lady here. + She said that an outsider, a small, dark man, was exerting an evil + influence upon Miss Lulie—upon your daughter. Then she said this + person was here in your house. Now, as I am the only person present who + answers to that description, naturally I—well, I—really, I + must protest. I have the highest respect and regard for your daughter, + Captain Hallett. I should be the last, the very last, to wish to exert any + such influence.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” The amazed captain shouted the word. “What are you talkin' + about? 'Twan't you she said. 'Twas that Howard swab. He's been hangin' + around Lulie for more 'n a year.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah—pardon me, Captain Hallett, but really I must make my point. It + could not have been Mr. Howard to whom the—ah—control + referred. Mr. Howard is somewhat dark, perhaps, but he is not small. I am + both dark and small. And I am here, whereas Mr. Howard apparently is not. + And I am, beyond question, an outsider. Therefore—” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, I tell you! She said Nelson Howard was in this house.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, pardon me, Captain Hallett. She said a small, dark man, an + outsider, was in this house. She mentioned no names. You mentioned no + names, did you, Miss—ah—Hoag?” + </p> + <p> + Marietta, thus unexpectedly appealed to, gasped, swallowed, turned red and + stammered that she didn't know's she did; adding hastily that she never + remembered nothin' of what she said in the trance state. After this she + swallowed again and observed that she didn't see WHY she couldn't have + that drink of water. + </p> + <p> + “So you see, Captain Hallett,” went on Mr. Bangs, with the same gentle + persistence, “being the only person present answering the description + given by the medium I feel somewhat—ah—distressed. I must + insist that I am unjustly accused. I must ask Miss Phipps here and your + daughter herself to say whether or not my conduct toward Miss Lulie has + not been quite—ah—harmless and without—ah—malevolence. + I shall be glad to leave it to them.” + </p> + <p> + Of the pair to whom this appeal for judgment was made Martha Phipps alone + heeded it. Lulie, still white and trembling, was intent only upon her + father. But Martha rose to the occasion with characteristic promptness. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, Mr. Bangs,” she declared, “you've behaved just as nice as any + one could be in this world. I could hardly believe my ears when Marietta + said you were an evil influence towards Lulie. You ought to be careful + about sayin' such things, Marietta. Why, you never met Mr. Bangs before + this evenin'. How could you know he was an evil influence?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Hoag, thus attacked from an unexpected quarter, was thrown still more + out of mental poise. “I never said he was one,” she declared, wildly. “I + only just said there was a—a—I don't know what I said. Anyhow + <i>I</i> never said it, 'twas my control talkin'. I'll leave it to 'Phelia + Beebe. You know I don't know what I'm sayin' when I'm in the trance state, + don't you, 'Phelia? Anyhow, all I said was.... Oh, 'Phelia,” wildly, “why + don't you help me out?... And—and I've asked no less'n four mortal + times for that drink of water. I—I—Oh, oh—” + </p> + <p> + She became hysterical. The circle ceased to be a circle and became a + series of agitated groups, all talking at once. Mr. Bloomer seized the + opportunity to turn up the wick of another lamp. Lulie, clinging to her + father's arm, led him toward a chair in a secluded corner. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down, father,” she urged. “Sit down, and rest. Please do!” + </p> + <p> + The old light keeper's fiery rage seemed to be abating. He passed his hand + across his forehead several times and his expression changed. He looked + like one awakening from a bad dream. + </p> + <p> + “I—I cal'late I will set down for a minute or so, Lulie,” he + faltered. “I do feel sort of tired, somehow or 'nother. I don't want to + talk any more, Mr. Bangs,” he added, wearily. “I—I'll have to think + it all out. Lulie, I cal'late they'd better go home. Tell 'em all to go. + I'm tired.” + </p> + <p> + Martha Phipps passed from group to group whispering. + </p> + <p> + “I guess we'd better go,” she suggested. “He's pretty well worn out, I'm + afraid. Everybody's things are there in the dinin' room or in the side + entry. We'd better go right away, it seems to me.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha had gotten his “things” already, his coat was over his arm. The + others followed his example. A few minutes more and the last of the “ghost + seiners” had left the house and were climbing into the automobiles in the + yard. Marietta Hoag's voice was the last distinctly audible. + </p> + <p> + “I can't help it,” she wailed. “It wasn't my fault anyway. And—and, + besides, that Bangs man hadn't any right to say 'twas him I meant.... I + mean the control meant. It wasn't him at all.... I mean I don't believe + 'twas. Oh, dear! I WISH you'd stop askin' questions, Abe Hardin'. CAN'T + you stop?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha and Primmie set out for the Phipps' homestead ahead of its owner, + but she caught up with them at the gate. + </p> + <p> + “He's goin' right up to bed,” she said. “Zach will look out for the light + to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “And—” asked Galusha, with significant emphasis. + </p> + <p> + Martha did not reply. She waited until they were in the sitting room and + alone, Primmie having been sentenced to go to her own room and to bed. + Miss Cash had no desire for bed; her dearest wish was to remain with her + mistress and their lodger and unload her burden of conversation. + </p> + <p> + “My savin' soul!” she began. “My savin' soul! Did you ever in your born + days! When that Marietta Hoag—or that Chinee critter—or Cap'n + Jeth's ghost's wife—or whoever 'twas talkin' that spirit jabber—when + she—them, I mean—give out that a small, dark man was right + there in that house, I thought—” + </p> + <p> + “Primmie, go to bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm. And when I remembered that Nelse Howard was—” + </p> + <p> + “Go to bed this minute!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm. But how do you 'spose he's goin' to—” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phipps conducted her to the foot of the back stairs and, returning, + closed each door she passed through behind her. Then she answered her + lodger's unspoken question. + </p> + <p> + “Lulie will go with her father and help him up to his room,” she said. + “After he is out of the way Nelson can come out and Zach, I suppose, will + let him out by the side door.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha smiled faintly. “The poor fellow must have been somewhat disturbed + when that—ah—medium person announced that the 'evil influence' + was in the house,” he observed. + </p> + <p> + Martha sniffed. “I guess likely we were all disturbed,” she said. + “Especially those of us who knew. But how did Marietta know? That's what I + can't understand. Or did she just guess?” + </p> + <p> + Before Bangs could answer there was a rap on the windowpane. Martha, going + to the door, admitted Nelson Howard himself. The young man's first speech + was a question. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know what became of my hat?” he asked. “Like an idiot I hung my + hat and coat in that entry off the dining room when I went in. When I came + out just now the hat was gone.” + </p> + <p> + Martha looked troubled. + </p> + <p> + “It wasn't that cap you wear so much, at the station and everywhere?” she + asked. “I hope no one took THAT; they'd know whose 'twas in a minute.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that's what I'm afraid of. I... Eh? Why, there it is now.” + </p> + <p> + The cap was lying on the couch beside Mr. Bangs' overcoat. Howard picked + it up with an air of great relief. + </p> + <p> + “You brought it over for me, Mr. Bangs, didn't you?” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, yes, I—I did,” stammered Galusha. “You see, I—” + </p> + <p> + The young man broke in enthusiastically. “By jingo, that was clever of + you!” he cried. “I was afraid some one had got that cap who would + recognize it. Say,” he went on, “I owe you about everything to-night, Mr. + Bangs. When Marietta gave out her proclamation that the 'small dark man' + was in that house I came nearer to believing in her kind of spiritualism + than I ever thought I should. I was scared—not on my own account, I + hope—but for Lulie and her father. If the old cap'n had found me + hiding in that front hall I don't know what he might have done, or tried + to do. And I don't know what effect it might have had on him. He was—well, + judging from what I could hear, he was in a state that was—that was + pretty near to—to—” + </p> + <p> + While he was hesitating Martha Phipps finished the sentence. “To what they + put people in asylums for,” she said, emphatically. “He was, there is no + doubt about that. It's a mercy he didn't find you, Nelson. And if I were + you I wouldn't take any such chances again.” + </p> + <p> + “I shan't, you needn't worry. When Lulie and I meet after this it will be—Humph! + well, I don't know where it will be. Even the graveyard doesn't seem to be + safe. But I must go. Tell Lulie I got away safe and sound, thanks to Mr. + Bangs here. And tell her to 'phone me to-morrow. I'm anxious about Cap'n + Jeth. Sometimes I think it might be just as well if I went straight to him + and told him—” + </p> + <p> + Again Martha interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “My soul, no!” she exclaimed. “Not now, not till he gets that 'small dark + man' notion out of his head.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you're right. And Mr. Bangs has set him guessing on that, too. + Honestly, Mr. Bangs, you've just about saved—well, if you haven't + saved everybody's life you've come pretty near to saving the cap'n's + reason, I do believe. How Lulie and I can ever thank you enough I don't + know.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha turned red. “Ah—ah—don't—ah—please don't,” + he stammered. “It was just—ah—a silly idea of mine. On the + spur of the moment it came to me that—ah—that the medium + person hadn't said WHO the small, dark man was. And as I am rather dark + perhaps—and small, certainly—it occurred to me to claim + identity. Almost every one else had received some sort of—ah—spirit + message and, you see, I didn't wish to be neglected.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it was the smartest dodge that I ever heard of. By jingo, it was! + Say, you don't suppose Cap'n Jeth will take it seriously and begin to get + down on YOU, do you?” + </p> + <p> + Martha looked grave. “I was wonderin' that myself,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Galusha smiled. “Oh, dear no,” he said. “I think there is no danger of + that, really. But, Mr. Howard, in regard to that—ah—cap of + yours, I... Eh?... Um... Why, dear me, I wonder—” + </p> + <p> + “Why is it you wonder, Mr. Bangs?” asked Martha, after a moment's wait. + </p> + <p> + “Why—ah—considering that that cap of Mr. Howard's is one + which, so you and he say, he is in the habit of wearing, and that many + people have often seen him wear, I was wondering—Dear me, yes, that + might explain.” + </p> + <p> + “Explain what?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, it occurred to me that as that cap was hanging in the—ah—entry—the + little hall off Captain Hallett's dining room—when the people came + in, and as the medium person—Miss—ah—bless me, what IS + her name?—as she came in with the rest, it occurred to me that she + might have seen the cap and—” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phipps clapped her hands. “She saw it and knew whose it was,” she + cried, excitedly. “Of course she did! THAT'S how she guessed the small, + dark man was in the house. THAT'S how 'Little Toddy Blossom,' or whatever + her name is, got so smart all at once. Well, well! Of course, of course!” + </p> + <p> + “It—ah—occurred to me that that might possibly explain,” + observed Galusha, placidly. + </p> + <p> + “It does. But, Nelson, what set Marietta and her spirits after you in + particular? Has she got any grudge against you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not that I know of, Martha. She knows I don't take any stock in her kind + of spirit messages. I don't think she likes me very well on that account.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, perhaps, that is reason enough. Or perhaps she just happened the + first time to mention the small dark man hit or miss and Cap'n Jethro + pinned the tag to you; after that she did her best to keep it there. Well, + thanks to Mr. Bangs, the cap'n isn't as sure as he was, that's some + comfort.” + </p> + <p> + Martha accompanied Nelson to the door. After he had gone and she returned + to the sitting room she found her lodger standing, lamp in hand, at the + foot of the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Goin' to turn in, Mr. Bangs?” she asked. “Goin' to bed, I mean? Father + always used to call it turnin' in; it's a saltwater way of sayin' it, just + as so many of his expressions were. I guess you must be pretty tired. I + know I am. Take it by and large—that is another of father's + expressions—we've had an excitin' evenin'.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha admitted the fact. His landlady regarded him with an odd + expression. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” she said, suddenly, “you are the most surprisin' person I + ever met, Mr. Bangs?... There! I didn't mean to say that,” she added. “I + was thinkin' it and it sort of spoke itself, as you might say. I beg your + pardon.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's quite all right, quite, Miss Phipps,” Galusha assured her. “I + have no doubt you are perfectly correct. No doubt I am surprising; at + least most people seem to find a peculiar quality in most of my—ah—actions.” + He smiled his gentle smile, and added, “I presume it must be a part of my + profession. In books, you know—in novels—the few I have read—the + archaeologist or the scientific man or the college professor is always + peculiar.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. “That isn't just what I meant,” she said. “So far as + that goes I've generally noticed that folks with little brains are fond of + criticizin' those with bigger ones. Part of such criticisms is 'don't + understand' and the rest is plain jealousy. But what I meant by callin' + you surprisin' was—was—Well,” with a half laugh, “I might just + as well say it plain. Ever since you've been here, Mr. Bangs, the feelin' + has been growin' on me that you were probably the wisest man in the world + about some things and the most simple and impractical about others. Over + there in Egypt you know everything, I do believe. And yet right down here + on Cape Cod you need somebody to keep Ras Beebe and Raish Pulcifer from + cheatin' you out of your last cent. That's what I thought. 'Mr. Bangs is + wonderful,' I said to myself, 'but I'm afraid he isn't practical.' And yet + to-night, over there, you were the only practical one amongst us.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha protested. “Oh, no, Miss Phipps,” he said. “Dear me, no. My + claiming to be the small, dark man was, as I said, merely a silly notion + which came to me. I acted on the spur of the moment. It was nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “It was about everything,” stoutly. “It was your notion, as you call it, + that saved Cap'n Jethro from findin' Nelson Howard in that front hall; and + savin' him from that saved us from havin' a crazy man on our hands, I + truly believe. And you did it so right on the instant, so matter of fact + and common sense. Really, Mr. Bangs, I—I don't know what to say to + you.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha smiled. “You said it before,” he observed, “when you said you were + surprised. I am surprised myself. Dear me, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't! That was a foolish thing for me to say and you mustn't take it the + wrong way. And your bringing Nelson's hat over here instead of leavin' it + in that entry for more of Marietta's crowd to notice and, ten to one, + recognize! We all knew it was hangin' there. I saw Nelson hang it there, + myself, when he came in. But did <i>I</i> think to take it out of sight? + Did <i>I</i>—Why, what is it? What's the matter?” + </p> + <p> + Her lodger was protesting violently. “Don't, don't, don't, Miss Phipps,” + he begged. “Please don't! You see, that hat—that cap of Mr. Howard's—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you brought it over here.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I—I brought it over. I brought it—but—” + </p> + <p> + “But what?” + </p> + <p> + “But I didn't know that I did. I must have been thinking of something else + when I went after my things and it is a mercy that I took my own coat. It + was only by accident that I took the—ah—young man's cap. I was + under the impression that it was my own. I presume my own cap is hanging + in the Hallett entry at this moment.... Ah—good-night, Miss Phipps. + Good night. I have had a very pleasant evening, very pleasant indeed.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <p> + Martha Phipps and her lodger, to say nothing of Lulie Hallett, were + fearful of the effect which the eventful seance might have upon the light + keeper. It was with considerable foreboding that Martha called Lulie up on + the telephone the next morning. But the news she received in answer to her + call was reassuring. Captain Jethro, so Lulie said, was apparently quite + himself again, a little tired and a trifle irritable, but otherwise all + right. + </p> + <p> + “The only unusual thing about him,” said his daughter, “is that he has not + once mentioned the seance or anything that happened there. If it wasn't + too ridiculous to be possible I should almost think he had forgotten it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then for the land sakes don't remind him,” urged Martha, eagerly. “So + long as HE is willin' not to remember you ought to be. Yes, and thankful,” + she added. + </p> + <p> + “I guess likely he hasn't forgotten,” she said afterwards, in conversation + with her lodger. “I imagine he is a good deal upset in his mind; your + bouncin' in and claimin' to be the 'evil influence' put him 'way off his + course and he hasn't got his bearin's yet. He's probably tryin' to think + his way through the fog and he won't talk till he sees a light, or thinks + he sees one. I wish to goodness the light would be so strong that he'd see + through Marietta Hoag and all her foolishness, but I'm afraid that's too + much to expect.” + </p> + <p> + Her surmise was correct, for a few days later the captain met Galusha on + the road leading to the village and, taking the little man by the arm, + became confidential. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bangs,” he said, “I cal'late you must think it's kind of queer my not + sayin' a word to you about what happened t'other night over to the house.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha, who had been thinking of something else and was mentally + thousands of miles away—on the banks of the Nile, in fact—regarded + him rather vacantly. + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Oh—um—yes, of course,” he stammered. “I beg your pardon.” + </p> + <p> + “No reason why you should beg my pardon. I don't blame you for thinkin' + so. It's natural.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes, of course, of course. But I don't know that I quite + comprehend. Of what were you speaking, Captain Hallett?” + </p> + <p> + The captain explained. “Of course you think it's queer that I haven't said + a word about what Julia told us,” he went on. “Eh? Don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “What—ah—what Miss Hoag said, you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Plague take Marietta!” impatiently. “She wan't nothin' but the + go-between. 'Twas my wife that said it. You understand 'twas Julia, my + wife, talkin', don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—ah—why—I suppose—” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose? Don't you KNOW 'twas?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—ah—no doubt, no doubt.” + </p> + <p> + “Course there ain't any doubt. Well then, Julia said there was a dark man + heavin' a sort of evil influence over Lulie.” + </p> + <p> + “She said a SMALL dark man, a stranger. And she said he was present among + us. So far as I can see I was the only small dark stranger.” + </p> + <p> + “But you ain't an evil influence, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I—ah—hope not. Dear me, no!” + </p> + <p> + “I hope not, too, and I don't believe you are. No, there is some mistake + somewheres. 'Twas Nelson Howard she must have meant.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Captain Hallett, Mr. Howard is not small.” + </p> + <p> + “No, and he wan't there that evenin', neither. But I'm bettin' 'twas him + she meant just the same. Just the same.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think that is quite fair to Mr. Howard? If he isn't small, nor + very dark, and if he was not in your house that evening, how—” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know—I don't know. Anyhow, I don't believe she meant you, + Mr. Bangs. She couldn't have.” + </p> + <p> + “But—ah—why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Because—well, because you couldn't be an evil influence if you + tried, you wouldn't know how. THAT much I'll bet on. There, there, don't + let's talk no more about it. Julia and me'll have another talk pretty soon + and then I'll find out more, maybe.” + </p> + <p> + So that was the end of this portion of the conversation. The light keeper + positively refused to mention the subject again. Galusha was left with the + uneasy feeling that his brilliant idea of claiming to be the small, dark + influence for evil had not been as productive of good results as he had + hoped. Certainly it had not in the least shaken the captain's firm belief + in his spirit messages, nor had it, apparently, greatly abated his + prejudice against young Howard. On the other hand, Lulie found comfort in + the fact that in all other respects her father seemed as rational and as + keen as he had ever been. The exciting evening with the Hoag spook had + worked no lasting harm. For so much she and her friends were grateful. + </p> + <p> + The autumn gales blew themselves out and blew in their successors, the + howling blasts of winter. Winter at Gould's Bluffs, so Galusha Bangs + discovered, was no light jest of the weather bureau. His first January + no'theaster taught him that. Lying in his bed at one o'clock in the + morning, feeling that bed tremble beneath him as the wind gripped the + sturdy gables of the old house, while the snow beat in hissing tumult + against the panes, and the great breakers raved and roared at the foot of + the bluff—this was an experience for Galusha. The gray dawn of the + morning brought another, for, although it was no longer snowing, the wind + was, if anything, stronger than ever and the seaward view from his bedroom + window was a picture of frothing gray and white, of flying spray and + leaping waves, and on the landward side the pines were bending and + threshing as if they were being torn in pieces. He came downstairs, + somewhat nervous and a trifle excited, to find Mr. Bloomer, garbed in + oilskins and sou'wester, standing upon the mat just inside the dining room + door. Zacheus, it developed, had come over to borrow some coffee, the + supply at the light having run short. As Galusha entered, a more than + usually savage blast rushed shrieking over the house, threatening, so it + seemed to Mr. Bangs, to tear every shingle from the roof. + </p> + <p> + “Goodness gracious!” exclaimed Galusha. “Dear me, what a terrible storm + this is!” + </p> + <p> + Zacheus regarded him calmly. “Commenced about ten last night,” he + observed. “Been breezin' on steady ever since. Be quite consider'ble gale + if it keeps up.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs looked at him with amazement. + </p> + <p> + “If it keeps up!” he repeated. “Isn't it a gale now?” + </p> + <p> + Zach shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Not a reg'lar gale, 'tain't,” he said. “Alongside of some gales I've seen + this one ain't nothin' but a tops'l breeze. Do you remember the storm the + night the Portland was lost, Martha?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phipps, who had come in from the kitchen with a can of coffee in her + hand, shuddered. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I do, Zacheus,” she said; “don't remind me of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, dear me, was it worse than this one?” asked Galusha. + </p> + <p> + Martha smiled. “It blew the roof off the barn here,” she said, “and blew + down both chimneys on the house and both over at Cap'n Jeth's. So far as + that goes we had plenty of company, for there were nineteen chimneys down + along the main road in Wellmouth. And trees—mercy! how the poor + trees suffered! East Wellmouth lost thirty-two big silver-leafs and the + only two elms it had. Set out over a hundred years ago, those elms were.” + </p> + <p> + “Spray from the breakers flew clear over the top of the bank here,” said + Zach. “That's some h'ist for spray, hundred and odd feet. I wan't here to + see it, myself, but Cap'n Jeth told me.” + </p> + <p> + “You were in a more comfortable place, I hope,” observed Galusha. + </p> + <p> + “Um—we-ell, that's accordin' to what you call comf'table. I was + aboard the Hog's Back lightship, that's where I was.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear, dear! Is it possible?” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Possible enough that I was there, and one spell it looked + impossible that I'd ever be anywheres else. Godfreys, what a night that + was! Whew! Godfreys domino!” + </p> + <p> + Primmie, who had also come in from the kitchen, was listening, + open-mouthed. + </p> + <p> + “I bet you that lightship pitched up and down somethin' terrible, didn't + it, Zach?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Zacheus looked at her solemnly. “Pitched?” he repeated, after a moment's + contemplation. “No, no, she didn't pitch none.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't? Didn't pitch up and down in such a gale's that? And with waves a + hundred foot high? What kind of talk's that, Zach Bloomer! How could that + lightship help pitchin', I'd like to know?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bloomer adjusted the tin cover on the can in which Martha had put the + coffee, then he put the can in the pocket of his slicker. + </p> + <p> + “We-ll, I tell you, Primmie,” he drawled. “You see, we had pretty + toler'ble long anchor chains on that craft and when the captain see how + 'twas blowin' he let them chains out full length. The wind blowed so + strong it lifted the lightship right out of the water up to the ends of + them chains and kept her there. Course there was a dreadful sea runnin' + underneath us, but we never felt it a mite; that gale was holdin' us up + twenty foot clear of it!” + </p> + <p> + “Zacheus Bloomer, do you mean to say—” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Twenty foot in the air we was all that night and part of next day. + When it slacked off and we settled down again we was leakin' like a sieve; + you see, while we was up there that no'thwester had blowed 'most all the + copper off the vessel's bottom. Some storm that was, Posy, some storm.... + Well, so long, all hands. Much obliged for the coffee, Martha.” + </p> + <p> + He tugged his sou'wester tighter on his head, glanced at Miss Cash's face, + where incredulity and indignation were written large and struggling for + expression, turned his head in Mr. Bangs' direction, winked solemnly, and + departed. The wind obligingly and enthusiastically saved him the trouble + of closing the door. + </p> + <p> + Galusha was not called upon to endure any such experiences as those + described by the veracious Mr. Bloomer in his record-breaking gale, but + during that winter he learned a little of what New England coast weather + could be and often was. And he learned, also, that that weather was, like + most blusterers, not nearly as savage when met squarely face to face. He + learned to put on layer after layer of garments, topping off with + oilskins, sou'wester and mittens, and tramp down to the village for the + mail or to do the household errands. He was growing stronger all the time + and if the doctor could have seen him plowing through drifts or + shouldering his way through a driving rain he would have realized that his + patient was certainly obeying the order to “keep out of doors.” Martha + Phipps was perfectly certain that her lodger was keeping out of doors + altogether too much. + </p> + <p> + “You aren't goin' out to-day, Mr. Bangs, are you?” she exclaimed. “It's as + cold as the North Pole. You'll freeze.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha smiled beneath his cap visor and between the ear-laps. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, indeed,” he declared. “It's brisk and—ah—snappy, + that's all. A smart walk will do me good. I am accustomed to walking. In + Egypt I walk a GREAT deal.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't doubt it; but you don't have much of this sort of weather in + Egypt, if what I've heard is true.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs' smile broadened. “I fear I shall have to admit that,” he said; + “but my—ah—physician told me that a change would be good for + me. And this IS a change, now isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “I should say it was. About as much change as a plate of ice cream after a + cup of hot coffee. Well, if you're bound to go, do keep walkin' fast. + Don't forget that it's down to zero or thereabouts; don't forget that and + wander over to the old cemetery and kneel down in front of a slate + tombstone and freeze to death.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I shall be all right, Miss Phipps. Really I shall. Don't worry, I beg + of you.” + </p> + <p> + He had begged her not to worry on many other occasions and she had been + accustomed to answer him in a manner half joking and half serious. But + this time she did not answer at all for a moment, and when she did there + was no hint of a joke in her tone. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said, slowly. “I won't. I couldn't, I guess. Don't seem as if I + could carry any more worries just now, any more than I am carryin', I + mean.” + </p> + <p> + She sighed as she said it and he looked at her in troubled alarm. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear me!” he exclaimed. “I—I'm so sorry. Sorry that you are + worried, I mean. Is there anything I can do to—to—I should be + very glad to help in any way if—” + </p> + <p> + He was hesitating, trying to say the right thing and very fearful of + saying too much, of seeming to be curious concerning her personal affairs, + when she interrupted him. She was standing by the kitchen door, with one + hand upon the knob, and she spoke without looking at him. + </p> + <p> + “There is nothin' you or anybody can do,” she said. “And there isn't a + single bit of use talkin' about it. Trot along and have your walk, Mr. + Bangs. And don't pay any attention to what I said. It was just silliness. + I get a little nervous, sometimes, but that's no reason for my makin' + other people that way. Have a good walk.” + </p> + <p> + He did not have a very good walk and his thoughts while walking were not + as closely centered about ancient inscriptions, either Egyptian or East + Wellmouthian, as was usually the case upon such excursions. Miss Martha + Phipps was worried, she had said so, herself. Yes, and now that he thought + of it, she looked worried. She was in trouble of some sort. A dreadful + surmise entered his mind. Was it possible that he, his presence in her + house, was the cause of her worry? He had been very insistent that she + take him as boarder and lodger. The sum he paid each week was ridiculously + small. Was it possible that, having consented to the agreement, she had + found it a losing one and was too kind-hearted and conscientious to + suggest a change? He remembered agreements which he had made, and having + made, had hesitated to break, even though they turned out to be decidedly + unprofitable and unpleasant. He had often been talked into doing things he + did not want to do, like buying the yellow cap at Beebe's store. Perhaps + he had talked Miss Phipps into taking him as boarder and lodger and now + she was sorry. + </p> + <p> + By the time Galusha returned from his walk he was in what might be + described as a state of mind. + </p> + <p> + As he entered the Phipps' gate he met some one coming down the path toward + it. That some one, it developed, was no less a person than Mr. Horatio + Pulcifer. Raish and Galusha had not encountered each other for some time, + weeks, in fact, and Mr. Bangs expected the former's greeting to be + exuberant and effusive. His shoulders and his spirit were alike shrinking + in anticipation. + </p> + <p> + But Raish did not shout when he saw him, did not even shake hands, to say + nothing of thumping the little man upon the back. The broad and rubicund + face of East Wellmouth's leading politician and dealer in real estate wore + not a grin but a frown, and when he and Galusha came together at the gate + he did not speak. Galusha spoke first, which was unusual; very few people + meeting Mr. Horatio Pulcifer were afforded the opportunity of speaking + first. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—good-morning, Mr. Pulcifer,” said Galusha, endeavoring to open + the gate. + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” grunted Raish, jerking the gate from Mr. Bangs' hand and pushing it + somewhat violently into the Bangs' waistcoat. “Mornin'.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a nice—ah—cool day, isn't it?” observed Galusha, + backing from the gateway in order to give Horatio egress. Mr. Pulcifer's + answer was irrelevant and surprising. + </p> + <p> + “Say,” he demanded, turning truculently upon the speaker, “ain't women + hell?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha was, naturally, somewhat startled. + </p> + <p> + “I—I beg your pardon?” he stammered. + </p> + <p> + “I say ain't women hell? Hey? Ain't they, now?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha rubbed his chin. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, doubtfully, “I presume in—ah—certain + instances they—My experience has been limited, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Say, they make me sick, most of 'em. They haven't any more + business sense than a hen, the heft of 'em ain't. Go into a deal with + their eyes open and then, when it don't turn out to suit 'em, lay down and + squeal. Yes, sir, squeal.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah—I see. Yes, yes, of course. Squeal—yes. The—the + hens, you mean.” + </p> + <p> + “HENS? No, women. They make me sick, I tell you.... And now a lot of dum + fools are goin' to give 'em the right to vote! Gosh!” + </p> + <p> + He strode off along the road to the village. Galusha wonderingly gazed + after him, shook his head, and then moved slowly up the path to the house. + Primmie opened the door for him. Her eyes were snapping. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Mr. Bangs!” she said. “I 'most wisht he'd drop down dead and then + freeze to death in a snowbank, that's what I wish.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha blinked. + </p> + <p> + “Why, bless my soul!” he exclaimed. “Of whom are you speaking?” + </p> + <p> + “That everlastin' Raish Pulcifer. I never did like him, and now if he's + comin' around here makin' her cry.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Making her cry?” + </p> + <p> + “Sshh! She'll hear you. Makin' Miss Martha cry. She's up in her room + cryin' now, I'll bet you on it. And he's responsible.... Yes'm, I'm + comin'. Don't say nothin' to her that I told you, will you, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + She hurried away in response to her mistress' hail. Galusha said nothing + to Miss Phipps nor to any one else, but during the rest of that day he did + a great deal of thinking. Martha Phipps was worried, she was troubled, she + had been crying; according to Primmie Horatio Pulcifer was responsible for + her tears. Galusha had never fancied Mr. Pulcifer, now he was conscious of + a most extraordinary dislike for the man. He had never disliked any one so + much in all his life, he was sure of that. Also he was conscious of a + great desire to help Martha in her trouble. Of course there was a certain + measure of relief in learning that Pulcifer and not he was responsible for + that trouble, but the relief was a small matter in comparison with the + desire to help. + </p> + <p> + He could think of but one way in which Horatio Pulcifer could cause worry + for Martha Phipps and that was in connection with some business matter. + Certain fragments of conversations occurred to him, certain things she had + said to him or to Captain Hallett in his hearing which were of themselves + sufficient to warrant the surmise that her trouble was a financial one. He + remembered them now, although at the time they had made little impression + upon his mind. But Raish Pulcifer's name was not mentioned in any of those + conversations; Captain Jethro's had been, but not Raish's. Yet Primmie + vowed that the latter had made Miss Martha cry. He determined to seek + Primmie and ask for more particulars that very evening. + </p> + <p> + But Primmie saved him the trouble of seeking her. Miss Phipps and her maid + left him alone in the sitting room as soon as supper was over and neither + came back. He could hear the murmur of voices in the kitchen, but, + although he sat up until ten o'clock, neither Primmie nor her mistress + joined him. So he reluctantly went up to his room, but had scarcely + reached it when a knock sounded on the door. He opened it, lamp in hand. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Primmie!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + Primmie waved both hands in frantic expostulation. + </p> + <p> + “Sshh! shh! shh!” she breathed. “Don't say nothin'. I don't want her to + hear you. PLEASE don't let her hear you, Mr. Bangs. And PLEASE come right + downstairs again. I want to talk to you. I've GOT to talk with you.” + </p> + <p> + More bewildered than he had before been, even on that bewildering day, + Galusha followed Miss Cash down the stairs, through sitting room and + dining room to the kitchen. Then Primmie put down the lamp, which she had + taken from his hand, carefully closed the door behind them, turned to her + companion and burst out crying. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, Primmie!” exclaimed Galusha. “Oh, dear me! What is it?” + </p> + <p> + Primmie did not answer. She merely waved her hands up and down and stood + there, dripping like a wet umbrella. + </p> + <p> + “But—my soul, Primmie!” cried Mr. Bangs. “Don't! You—you + mustn't, you know.” + </p> + <p> + But Primmie did, nevertheless. Galusha in desperation turned toward the + door. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going to call Miss Phipps,” he declared. Primmie, the tears still + pouring down her cheeks, seized him by the arm. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you do it!” she commanded. “Don't you dast to do it! I'll—I'll + stop cryin'. I—I'm goin' to if you'll only wait and give me a + chance. There! There! See, I'm—I'm stoppin' now.” + </p> + <p> + And, with one tremendous sniff and a violent rub of her hand across her + nose, stop she did. But she was still the complete picture of misery. + </p> + <p> + “Why, what IS the matter?” demanded Galusha. + </p> + <p> + Primmie sniffed once more, gulped, and then blurted forth the explanation. + </p> + <p> + “She—she's canned me,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Galusha looked at her uncomprehendingly. Primmie's equipment of Cape Cod + slang and idiom, rather full and complete of itself, had of late been + amplified and complicated by a growing acquaintance with the new driver of + the grocery cart, a young man of the world who had spent two hectic years + in Brockton, where, for a portion of the time, he worked in a shoe + factory. But Galusha Bangs, not being a man of the world, was not up in + slang; he did not understand. + </p> + <p> + “What?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I say she's canned me. Miss Martha has, I mean. Oh, ain't it awful!” + </p> + <p> + “Canned you? Really, I—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, yes! Canned me, fired me. Oh, DON'T stand there owlin' at me + like that! Can't you see, I—Oh, please, Mr. Bangs, excuse me for + talkin' so. I—I didn't mean to be sassy. I'm just kind of loony, I + guess. Please excuse me, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, Primmie, of course—of course. Don't cry, that's all. But + what is this? Do I understand you to say that Miss Phipps has—ah—DISCHARGED + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. That's what she's done. I'm canned. And I don't know where to go + and—and I don't want to go anywheres else. I want to stay here along + of her.” + </p> + <p> + She burst into tears again. It was some time before Galusha could calm her + sufficiently to get the story of what had happened. When told, flavored + with the usual amount of Primmieisms, it amounted to this: Martha had + helped her with the supper dishes and then, instead of going into the + sitting room, had asked her to sit down as she had something particular to + say to her. Primmie obediently sat and her mistress did likewise. + </p> + <p> + “But she didn't begin to say it right off,” said Primmie. “She started + four or five times afore she really got a-goin'. She said that what she'd + got to say was dreadful unpleasant and was just as hard for her to say as + 'twould be for me to hear. And she said I could be sartin' sure she'd + never say it if 'twan't absolutely necessary and that she hadn't made up + her mind to say it until she'd laid awake night after night tryin' to + think of some other way out, but that, try as she could, she didn't see no + other way. And so then—so then she said it. Oh, my savin' soul! I + declare I never thought—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, hush, Primmie. Ah—control yourself, please. You promised not + to cry, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Cry! Well, ain't I tryin' not to cry, for mercy sakes? She was cryin', + too, I tell you, afore she finished. If you'd seen the pair of us settin' + there bellerin' like a couple of young ones I cal'late you'd a thought + so.” + </p> + <p> + “Bellowing? Miss Phipps?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't mean bellerin' out loud like a—like a heifer. I guess + likely I was doin' that, but she wan't. She was just cryin' quiet, you + know, but anybody could see how terrible bad she was feelin'. And then she + said it—oh, dear, dear! How CAN I tell it? How CAN I?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha groaned, in harassed desperation. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” he admitted, “But I—really I wish you would.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phipps had, it seemed, told her maidservant that, owing to the + steadily increasing cost of living, of food and clothes and every item of + daily expense, she was finding it more and more hard to get along. She + said her income was very small and her bills continually growing larger. + She had cut and scrimped in every possible way, hoping against hope, but + at last she had been driven to the point where even the small wage she was + paying Primmie seemed more than she could afford. Much as she hated to do + it, she felt compelled to let the girl go. + </p> + <p> + “She said she'd help me get another place,” said Primmie, “and that I + could stay here until I did get one, and all sorts of things like that. I + told her I didn't want no other place and I didn't care a bit about the + wages. I said I'd rather work here without a cent of wages. She said no, + she wouldn't let me do that. If she couldn't pay me I couldn't work here. + I said I could and I should and she said I couldn't and shouldn't. And—and + we both cried and—and that's the way it ended. And that's why I come + to you, Mr. Bangs. I CAN'T go away and leave her. I CAN'T, Mr. Bangs. She + can't keep this whole house a-goin' without somebody to help. I've GOT to + stay. You make her keep me, Mr. Bangs. I don't want no pay for it. I never + was no hand to care for money, anyhow. Pa used to say I wan't. None of our + folks was. Matter of that, we never had none to care for. But you make her + keep me, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + She began to sob once more. Poor Galusha was very much distressed. The + cause of Martha Phipps' worry was plain enough now. And her financial + stress must be very keen indeed to cause her to take such drastic action + as the discharge of Primmie the faithful. + </p> + <p> + “You'll make her keep me, won't you, Mr. Bangs?” pleaded Primmie, once + more. + </p> + <p> + Galusha rubbed his chin. “Dear me,” he said, perplexedly, “I—Well, I + shall be glad to do all I can, of course, but how I can make her keep you + when she has made up her mind not to, I—really, I don't see. You + don't think, do you,” he added, “that my being here is in any way + responsible for a portion of Miss Phipps' financial trouble? You don't + think it might be—ah—easier for her if I was to—ah—go?” + </p> + <p> + Primmie shook her head. “Oh, no, no,” she declared, with decision, “You + ain't a mite of bother, Mr. Bangs. I've heard Miss Martha say more'n a + dozen times what a nice man you was and how easy 'twas to provide for you. + She likes you, Miss Martha does, and I do, too. Even when we thought you + was an undertaker huntin' 'round for remains we liked you just the same.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha could not help feeling a certain satisfaction in this + whole-hearted declaration. It was pleasant to learn that he was liked and + that his hostess considered him a nice man. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Primmie,” he said. “But what I meant was—was—Well, + I pay what seems to me a ridiculously small sum for board and lodging. I + begged to be allowed to pay more, but Miss Phipps wouldn't permit it. Now + I am sure she must be losing money in the transaction and if I were to go—ah—elsewhere + perhaps it might be—ah—easier for her. Candidly, don't you + think so, Primmie?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Cash appeared to consider. Then she shook her head again. “No,” she + said, “I don't. You pay your board and I've heard her say more'n once that + she felt as if you was payin' too much. No, 'tain't that. It's more'n + that. It ain't anything to do really with you or me, Mr. Bangs. Miss + Martha's lost some money somehow, I believe. She ain't got enough to get + along on, 'cause she told me she hadn't. Now, she used to have and I + believe she's lost some of it somewheres. And I believe that—” + </p> + <p> + Galusha felt it his duty to interrupt. + </p> + <p> + “Primmie,” he continued, “you mustn't tell me anything which Miss Phipps + wouldn't wish told. I wouldn't for the world have you think that I am + unduly curious concerning her personal affairs. If there is any trait + which I—ah—detest above others it is that of unwarranted + curiosity concerning the—ah—private affairs of one's + acquaintances. I... Why do you look at me like that? Were you about to + speak?” + </p> + <p> + Primmie was staring at him in what seemed to be awe-stricken admiration. + She drew a long breath. + </p> + <p> + “My Lord of Isrul!” she exclaimed, fervently, “I never heard anybody + string talk along the way you can in all my born days, Mr. Bangs. I bet + you've said as many as seven words already that I never heard afore, never + heard ary one of 'em, I ain't. Education's wonderful, ain't it? Pa used to + say 'twas, but all he had he picked up off fishin' and clammin' and + cranberrin' and around. All our family had a kind of picked-up education, + seemed so.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, Primmie, but—” + </p> + <p> + “But why don't I mind my own business and stick to what I was goin' to + say, you mean? All right, I will. I was goin' to say that I believe Miss + Martha's lost money somehow and I believe that dressed-up stuffed image of + a Raish Pulcifer is responsible for her losin' it, that's what I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Pulcifer! Why, Primmie, why do you say that? What proof have you?” + </p> + <p> + “Ain't got no proof. If folks could get proof on Raish Pulcifer he'd have + been in jail long ago. Zach Bloomer said that only the other day. But a + body can guess, can't they, even if they ain't got proof, and that's what + I'm doin'—guessin'. Every once in a while Miss Martha goes up to the + village to see this Pulcifer thing, don't she? Yes, she does. Went up + twice inside of a fortni't that I know of. Does she go 'cause she likes + him? I cal'late she don't. She likes him about the way I do and I ain't + got no more use for him than a hen has for a toothbrush. And t'other day + she sent for him and asked him to come here and see her. How do I know she + did? 'Cause she telephoned him and I heard her doin' it, that's how. And + he didn't want to come and she just begged him to, said she would try not + to bother him again if he would come that once. And he came and after he + went away she cried, same as I told you she did.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Primmie, all that may be and yet Mr. Pulcifer's visit may have no + connection with Miss Martha's monetary trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to know! Well, if that's so, why was she and him talkin' so hard + when he was here this afternoon? And why was she askin' him to please see + if he couldn't get some sort of an offer? I heard her ask that.” + </p> + <p> + “Offer for what?” + </p> + <p> + “Search me! For somethin' she wanted to sell, I presume likely. And he + says to her, 'No, I can't,' he says. 'I've told you so a dozen times. If I + could get anybody to buy I'd sell my own, wouldn't I? You bet your life I + would!' And she waited a minute and then she says, kind of low and more as + if she was talkin' to herself than to him, 'What SHALL I do?' she says. + And he heard her and says he—I'd like to have chopped his head off + with the kindlin' hatchet when I heard him say it—says he, '<i>I</i> + don't know. How do you s'pose <i>I</i> know what you'll do? I don't know + what I'll do, myself, do I?' And she answered right off, and kind of + sharp, 'You was sure enough what was goin' to be done when you got father + into this thing.' And he just swore and stomped out of the house. So THAT + sounds as if he had somethin' to do with it, don't it?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha was obliged to admit that it did so sound. And when he remembered + Mr. Pulcifer's remark at the gate, that concerning women and business, the + evidence was still more convincing. He did not tell Primmie that he was + convinced, however. He swore her to secrecy, made her promise that she + would tell no one else what she had told him or even that she had told + him, and in return promised to do what he could to bring about her + retention in the Phipps' home. + </p> + <p> + “Although, as I said, Primmie,” he added, “I'm sure I can't at present see + what I can do.” + </p> + <p> + Another person might have found little encouragement in this, but Primmie + apparently found a good deal. + </p> + <p> + “You'll see a way, I'll bet you you will, Mr. Bangs,” she declared. + “Anybody that's been through the kind of times you have, livin' along with + critters that steal the shirt off your back, ain't goin' to let a + blowed-up gas balloon like Raish Pulcifer stump you. My savin' soul, no!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs smiled faintly. + </p> + <p> + “The shirt wasn't on my back when it was stolen,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Primmie sniffed. “It didn't have no chance to be,” she declared. “That + camel thing got it onto HIS back first. But, anyhow, I feel better. I + think now we're goin' to come out all right, Miss Martha and me. I don't + know why I feel so, but I do.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha was by no means as confident. He went back to his room and to bed, + but it was long before he fell asleep. Just why the thought of Martha + Phipps' trouble should trouble him so greatly he still did not understand, + exactly. Of course he was always sorry for any one in trouble, and would + have gone far out of his way to help such a person, had the latter + appealed to him. But Martha had not appealed to him; as a matter of fact, + it was evident that she was trying to keep knowledge of her difficulty + from him and every one else. Plainly it was not his business at all. And + yet he was filled with an intense desire, even a determination, to make it + his business. He could not understand why, but he wasted no time trying to + understand. The determination to help was strong when at last he did fall + asleep and it was just as strong when he awoke the next morning. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <p> + He endeavored, while dressing, to map out a plan of campaign, but the map + was but a meaningless whirligig of lines leading nowhere when Primmie + called from the foot of the stairs that breakfast was ready. During + breakfast he was more absent-minded than usual, which is saying a good + deal, and Martha herself was far from communicative. After the meal he was + putting on his hat and coat preparatory to going out for his usual walk + when Primmie came hurrying through the hall. + </p> + <p> + “She wants you,” said Primmie, mysteriously, her eyes shining with + excitement. “She wants to see you in the settin' room. Come on, come on, + Mr. Bangs! What are you waitin' for?” + </p> + <p> + As a general rule Galusha's thoughts started upon the morning ramble some + little time before he did and recalling them was a rather slow and + patience-taxing process. In this case, however, they were already in the + sitting room with Martha Phipps and so had a shorter road home. But they + came slowly enough, for all that. + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” queried Galusha, peering out between the earlaps of his cap. “Eh? + What did you say, Primmie?” + </p> + <p> + “I say Miss Martha wants to see you a minute. She's in there a-waitin'. I + bet you she's goin' to tell you about it. Hurry! hurry!” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me?... About what?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, about what 'tis that's worryin' her so. About that Raish Pulcifer + and all the rest of it.... Oh, my Lord of Isrul! Don't you understand NOW? + Oh, Mr. Bangs, won't you PLEASE wake up?” + </p> + <p> + But Galusha was beginning to understand. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me! Dear me!” he exclaimed, nervously. “Do you think that—Did + she say she wished to see me, Primmie?” + </p> + <p> + “Ain't I been tellin' you she did? Now you talk right up to her, Mr. + Bangs. You tell her I don't want no wages. Tell her I'll stay right along + same as ever and—You TELL her, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + Martha was standing by the stove in the sitting room when her lodger + entered. She turned to greet him. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know as I'm doin' right to keep you from your walk, Mr. Bangs,” + she said. “And I won't keep you very long. But I did want to talk with you + for just a minute or two. I wanted to ask your advice about—about a + business matter.” + </p> + <p> + Now this was very funny indeed. It would have been hard to find a richer + joke than the idea of consulting Galusha Bangs concerning a matter of + business. But both parties to this consultation were too serious to see + the joke at that moment. + </p> + <p> + Galusha nodded solemnly. He faltered something about being highly honored + and only too glad to be of service. His landlady thanked him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said, “I knew you would be. And, as I say, I won't keep you + very long. Sit down, Mr. Bangs. Oh, not in that straight up-and-down + thing. Here, in the rocker.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha lifted himself from the edge of the straight-backed chair upon + which he had perched and sat upon the edge of the rocking-chair instead. + Martha looked at him sitting there, his collar turned up, his cap brim and + earlaps covering two thirds of his face and his spectacles at least half + of the remaining third, his mittened hands twitching nervously in his lap, + and, in spite of her feelings, could not help smiling. But it was a + fleeting smile. + </p> + <p> + “Take off your things, Mr. Bangs,” she said. “You'll roast alive if you + don't. It's warm in here. Primmie forgot and left the dampers open and the + stove was pretty nearly red-hot when I came in just now. Yes, take off + your overcoat and cap, and those mittens, for mercy sakes.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha declared that he didn't mind the mittens and the rest, but she + insisted and he hastily divested himself of his wrappings, dropping them + upon the floor as the most convenient repository and being greatly fussed + when Miss Phipps picked them up and laid them on the table. + </p> + <p> + “I—I beg your pardon,” he stammered. “Really, I DON'T know why I am + so thoughtless. I—I should be—ah—hanged or something, I + think. Then perhaps I wouldn't do it again.” + </p> + <p> + Martha shook her head. “You probably wouldn't in that case,” she said. + “Now, Mr. Bangs, I'm going to try to get at that matter I wanted to ask + your opinion about. Do you know anything about stocks—stockmarket + stocks, I mean?” + </p> + <p> + Her lodger looked rather bewildered. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me, no; not a thing,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + She did not look greatly disappointed. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't suppose you did,” she said. “You—well, you don't look like + a man who would know much about such things. And from what I've seen of + you, goodness knows, you don't ACT like one! Perhaps I shouldn't say + that,” she added, hastily. “I didn't mean it just as it sounded.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's all right, that's all right, Miss Phipps. I know I am a—ah—donkey + in most matters.” + </p> + <p> + “You're a long way from bein' a donkey, Mr. Bangs. And I didn't say you + were, of course. But—oh, well, never mind that. So you don't know + anything about stocks and investments and such?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't. I am awfully sorry. But—but, you see, all that sort of + thing is so very distasteful to me. It bores me—ah—dreadfully. + And so I—I dodge it whenever I can.” + </p> + <p> + Martha sighed. “Some of the rest of us would like to dodge it, too,” she + said, “if we only could. And yet—” she paused and regarded him with + the odd expression she had worn more than once when he puzzled her—“and + yet I—I just can't make you out, Mr. Bangs. You say you don't know + anything about money and managin' money, and yet those Egypt trips of + yours must cost a lot of money. And somebody must manage them. SOMEBODY + must 'tend to payin' the bills and the wages and all. Who does that?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha smiled. “Why, I do,” he admitted, “after a fashion. But it is a + very poor fashion. I almost never—I think I may safely say never + come in from one of those trips without having exceeded the—ah—estimate + of expenses. I always exceed it more or less—generally more.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled again. She looked more puzzled than ever. + </p> + <p> + “But some one has to pay the extra, don't they?” she asked. “Who does pay + it, the museum people?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—ah—no, not exactly. It is—ah—ah—generally + provided. But,” he added, rather hastily, as if afraid she might ask more + questions along this line, “if I might make a suggestion, Miss Martha—Miss + Phipps, I mean—” + </p> + <p> + “Plain Martha will do well enough. I think you're the only one in East + Wellmouth that calls me anything else. Of course you can make a + suggestion. Go ahead.” + </p> + <p> + “Well—ah—well, Miss Phipps—ah—Miss Martha, since + you permit me to call you so.... What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothin', nothin'. I was goin' to say that the 'Miss' wasn't + necessary, but never mind. Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “Well—ah—Mar—ah—Miss Martha, I was about to + suggest that you tell me what you intended telling me. I am very anxious + to help—ah—even if I can't, you know. Only I beg of you not to + think I am actuated by idle curiosity.” + </p> + <p> + She shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Even if you were I don't know that I shouldn't want to tell you, just the + same,” she observed. “The fact is I've just GOT to talk this over with + some one. Mr. Bangs, I am so worried I don't know what to do. It is a + money matter, of course, that's worryin' me, an investment father made a + little while before he died. Mr. Bangs, I don't suppose it's likely that + you ever heard of the Wellmouth Development Company? No, of course you + haven't.” + </p> + <p> + And yet, as she looked into her lodger's face, she was surprised at its + expression. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you never have heard of it, have you?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + Galusha stroked his chin. “That day in the cemetery,” he murmured. “That + day when I was—ah—behind the tomb and heard Captain Hallett + and Mr. Pulcifer speaking. I may be mistaken, but it seems to me that they + mentioned the name of—ah—ah—” + </p> + <p> + “The Development Company? Of course they did and you told me so when you + got home. I remember now. Well, Cap'n Jeth and Raish were both mixed up in + it along with father. Yes, and Doctor Powers and a lot more, though not so + much. Raish, of course, was at the back of it in the beginnin'. He got 'em + all in it, got himself into it, as far as that goes. You see, it was this + way.” + </p> + <p> + She told the story of the Wellmouth Development Company. It—the + story—began when the Eagle Fish Freezing Company of Denboro, a + concern then running and operating one large cold storage plant in that + village, were looking about for a favorable spot upon which to build a + second. The spot which appealed to their mind to purchase was the property + at the mouth of Skoonic Creek in East Wellmouth. + </p> + <p> + “It's a real pretty place,” said Martha, “one of the prettiest spots + alongshore, and the view from the top of the bluff there is just lovely. + You can see miles and miles out to sea and all up and down the shore—and + back over the village, for that matter. But, come to think of it, you know + the place, Mr. Bangs. It's only a little way from the old Baptist buryin' + ground.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha nodded. “Isn't it where my—ah—late lamented hat set + sail?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course it is. Just there. Well, the Eagle Fish folks made their + plans to buy all that property, the hills on both sides, and the low land + down by the creek. It was just the place for 'em, you see. And they were + quietly makin' arrangements to pick up the different parcels of land from + the owners here and there, when Raish Pulcifer got wind of it. There's + precious little goin' on down this part of the Cape that Raish doesn't get + wind of, particularly if it's somebody else's secret. He's got a reg'lar + pig's nose for rootin' up other people's private concerns. Well, Raish + found out what the Eagle Company was up to and he started bein' up to + somethin' himself.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pulcifer, so Miss Phipps went on to say, conceived the idea of buying + the Skoonic Creek property before the Eagle Company could do so. The + principal difficulty was that just then his own limited capital was tied + up in various ways and he lacked ready money. So, being obliged to borrow, + he sought out Captain Hallett, got the shrewd old light keeper's cupidity + aroused—not a very difficult task at any time—and Captain + Jethro agreed to help finance the deal. + </p> + <p> + “It didn't need a whole lot of real money,” explained Martha. “Most folks + that owned that land had owned it for mercy knows how long and had done + nothin' but pay taxes on it, so they were glad enough to sell for + somethin' down to bind what Raish and Jethro called 'options.' Anyhow, + when the Eagle people finally started in to put their grand plan into + workin', they bumped bows on into a shoal, at least that's the way father + used to tell about it. They found that all that Skoonic Creek land was in + the hands of Raish Pulcifer and Cap'n Jeth Hallett; those two either owned + it outright or had options where they didn't own.” + </p> + <p> + At first the Eagle Company declined to have anything to do with the new + owners. They declared the whole affair off, so far as the Skoonic Creek + location was concerned, and announced their intention of going elsewhere. + But there was no sufficiently attractive “elsewhere” to go. There followed + much proposing and counter-proposing and, at last, an entirely new deal. A + new corporation was formed, its name The Wellmouth Development Company. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know a great deal about it,” confessed Martha, “that is, not + about the reasons for it and all, but, as near as I can make out, Raish + and Jethro wouldn't sell outright to the Eagle Company, but wanted to come + in on the profits from the cold storage business, which were pretty big + sometimes. And they couldn't get into the reg'lar Eagle Fish Freezing + Company, the old one. So they and the Eagle folks together undertook to + form this new thing, the Development Company, the name meanin' nothin' or + a whole lot, 'cordin' to how the development developed, I presume likely. + The capital stock—I know all this because Cap'n Jethro and father + used to talk it over so much between 'em and Cap'n Jeth and I have talked + so much since—was fifty thousand. An awful lot of money, isn't it, + Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + Her tone was awe-stricken as she mentioned the amount. Galusha gravely + admitted that it was an “awful lot of money.” All sums were awful to him; + he would have agreed if the Wellmouth Development Company had been + capitalized from one thousand to a million. Miss Phipps went on. + </p> + <p> + “They put out the stock somethin' like this: The Eagle folks took pretty + near half, somewhere around twelve hundred shares, I think they had. And + Raish he took five hundred shares, and Cap'n Jeth four hundred, and father—after + listenin' to Jethro and Raish talk about dividends and profit sharin' and + such till, as he said, the tar on his top riggin' began to melt, he drew + out money from the savin's bank and sold some other bonds and stocks he + had and went in for two hundred and fifty shares. Twenty dollars a share + it was; did I tell you that? Yes, five thousand dollars father put into + that Development Company. It seemed like a lot even then; but, my soul and + body, WHAT a lot it seems to me now!” + </p> + <p> + She paused for an instant, then sighed, and continued. + </p> + <p> + “If you've figured this all out in your head, Mr. Bangs,” she said, “which + I suppose you haven't—?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha, surprised by the direct question, started, colored, and guiltily + admitted the correctness of her supposition. + </p> + <p> + “I—I haven't,” he faltered. “Dear me, no. In fact I—ah—doubt + if I am capable of doing such a thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, never mind, you don't have to. What it amounted to was that the + Eagle folks had twelve hundred shares and Raish and Jeth and father had + eleven hundred and fifty together. You see, neither side would let the + other have more'n half, or even quite half, because then whichever had it + could control things. So the remainin' one hundred and fifty shares was + sold around Wellmouth and Trumet. Doctor Powers has a few shares and Eben + Taylor's got some, and so have lots of folks, scattered around here. You + see, all hands were anxious to get in, it looked like a real good + investment. + </p> + <p> + “'But,' says father—right here in this very room I heard him say it + one night—'it's that one hundred and fifty shares that worry me. If + the Eagle crowd ever COULD buy up those shares they would control, after + all, and freeze us out. Freezin' is their business, anyhow,' he said, and + laughed that big laugh of his. Seems as if I could hear him laugh now. Ah, + hum!... But there, let's get under way again or you'll go to sleep before + the ship makes port. I declare, that was father's word, too, I'm always + quotin' him.... Let me see.... Oh, yes.... When father said that about the + one hundred and fifty shares controllin' Cap'n Jethro looked at Raish and + Raish looked at him. Then Raish laughed, too, only his laugh isn't much + like father's. + </p> + <p> + “'<i>I</i> got those extra shares taken up,' he said, 'and I was + particular who took 'em. There's mighty few of those shares will be sold + unless I say the word. Most of the folks that bought those shares are + under consider'ble obligation to me.' Just what he meant by that I don't + know, of course, but I can guess. Raish makes it a point to have people + under what he calls 'obligations' to him. It comes in handy for him, in + politics and other ways, to have 'em that way. He lends money and holds + mortgages and all that, and that's where the obligations come in.... Well, + anyhow, that's what he said and, although father didn't look any too happy + at the time and wouldn't talk about it afterward, it seemed to settle the + objection about the hundred and fifty shares. So the new company got under + way, the stockholders paid their money in, old Cap'n Ebenezer Thomas of + Denboro was made president and Raish Pulcifer was vice president and Judge + Daniel Seaver of Wellmouth Centre was secretary and treasurer. The Judge + was Wellmouth Centre's biggest gun, rich—at least, that's what + everybody thought then—and pompous and dignified and straight-backed + as an old-fashioned church pew. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm pretty near to the end, although it may not seem that way. For + the first few months all hands were talkin' about what great things the + Wellmouth Development Company was goin' to do. Then Judge Seaver gave 'em + somethin' else to talk about. He shot himself one night, and they found + him dead and all alone in the sittin' room of his big house. And when they + came to look over his papers and affairs they found that, instead of bein' + rich, he hadn't a cent in the world. He had lost all his own money + gamblin' in stocks, and, not only that, but he'd lost all that other folks + had given him to take care of. He was treasurer of the Eagle Fish Freezin' + Company and he'd stolen there until that company had to fail. And, bein' + secretary and treasurer of the Wellmouth Development Company, he had sent + the fifty thousand its stockholders paid in after the rest of his + stealin's. All there was left of that new Development Company was the land + over here by Skoonic Creek. He couldn't steal that very well, although, + when you think of the stealin' he did do, it's a wonder he hadn't tried to + carry it off by the wheelbarrow load. + </p> + <p> + “It isn't worth while my tellin' you all the hullabaloo that came after + the smash. It would take too long and I don't know the ins and outs of it, + anyway. But the way it stands now is this: The Eagle Fish Freezin' Company + is out of business. Their factory is run now by another concern + altogether. The Wellmouth Development Company is still alive—at + least it's supposed to be, but nobody but a doctor could tell it wasn't + dead. The Denboro Trust Company has the Eagle Company's twelve hundred + shares—I don't know how it got 'em; a long snarled-up tangle of + loans, and security for loans, and I don't know what—and the rest of + us have got ours. All that's back of those shares—all that the + Development Company owns—is that Skoonic Creek property and that is + goin' to be worth a lot some day—maybe. But I guess likely the some + day will be a long, long time after MY day. There, Mr. Bangs, that's the + story of the Wellmouth Development Company. And I presume likely you're + wonderin' why I tell it to you.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha, who had been faithfully endeavoring to grasp the details of his + hostess' narrative, passed a hand in bewildered fashion across his + forehead. He murmured that the story was—ah—very interesting, + very interesting indeed—yes. Martha smiled faintly. + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad you think so,” she said. “It is interestin' enough to some of us + here in Wellmouth, those of us who have our money tied up in it, but I + shouldn't think a stranger would find much in it to amuse him. But, you + see, Mr. Bangs, I didn't tell it to amuse you. I told it because—because—well, + because, I—I wondered if in any way you knew, or could find out, how + I could sell my two hundred and fifty shares. You see, I—I've GOT to + sell 'em. At least, I've got to get more money somehow or—or give up + this house. And I can't tell you what it would mean to me to do that.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha murmured something, something meant to be sympathetic. Miss + Phipps' evident distress and mental agitation moved him extraordinarily. + He wanted to say many things, reassuring things, but he could not at the + moment think of any. The best he could do was to stammer a hope that she + would not be obliged to sell the house. + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. “I'm afraid I shall,” she said. “I don't see how I can + possibly keep it much longer. When father died he left me, so he thought, + with enough income to get along on. It wasn't much—fact is, it was + mighty little—but we could and did get along on it, Primmie and I, + without touchin' my principal. But then came the war and ever since livin' + costs have been goin' up and up and up. Now my income is the same as it + was, but what it will buy is less than half. It doesn't cost much to live + down here, but I'm afraid it costs more than I can afford. If I begin to + take away from my principal I'll have to keep on doin' it and pretty soon + that will be all gone. After that—well, I don't want to look any + further than that. I shouldn't starve, I presume likely; while I've got + hands I can work and I'd manage to keep alive, if that was all. But it + isn't all. I'd like to keep on livin' in my own home. And I can't do that, + Mr. Bangs. I can't do that, as things are now. I must either get some more + money somehow, or sell this house, one or the other.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha leaned eagerly forward. He had been waiting for an excuse and now + he believed he saw one. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Miss Phipps,” he cried, “I—I think I can arrange that. I do + indeed. You see, I have—ah—more money than I need. I seldom + spend my money, you know, and—” + </p> + <p> + She interrupted him and her tone was rather sharp. + </p> + <p> + “Don't, Mr. Bangs,” she said. “Don't say any more. If you've got the idea + that I'm hintin' for you to LEND me money—you or anybody else—you + never was more mistaken in your life. Or ever will be.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha turned red. “I beg your pardon,” he faltered. “Of course I know + you were not hinting, Miss Martha. I—I didn't dream of such a thing. + It was merely a thought of my own. You see, it would be such a favor to me + if you would permit me to—to—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Miss Phipps, it would be doing me such a GREAT favor. Really, it + would.” + </p> + <p> + He was so very much in earnest that, in spite of her own stress of mind, + she could not help smiling. + </p> + <p> + “A great favor to help you get rid of your money?” she asked. “You havin' + such a tremendous lot of it, I presume likely.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—ah—yes, that's it, that's it.” + </p> + <p> + Her smile broadened. “And 'twas because you were so dreadfully rich that + you came here to East Wellmouth to live, I suppose. Mr. Bangs, you're the + kindest, best-hearted man that ever stepped, I do believe, but truly I + doubt if you know whether you're worth ten dollars or ten hundred. And it + doesn't make the least difference, so far as I am concerned. I'll never + borrow money while I'm alive and I'll try to keep enough one side to bury + me after I'm dead. So don't say any more about lendin'. That's settled.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha reluctantly realized that it was. He tried a new idea. + </p> + <p> + “I fear,” he stammered, “that my being here may have been a contributory + cause to your—ah—difficulties. Dear me, yes! I have realized + since the beginning that the amount I pay you is ridiculously small.” + </p> + <p> + “WHAT? The board you pay SMALL? Rubbish! You pay me altogether too much + and what I give you to eat isn't worth half of it. But there, I didn't + mean to go into all this at all. What I told you all this long rigmarole + for was to see if you could think of any way for me to turn those + Development Company shares of mine into money. Not what father paid for + them, of course, or even half of it. But SOME money at least. If I thought + they weren't worth anything I shouldn't think of tryin' to sell 'em. I + don't want to cheat—or steal. But they tell me they are worth + somethin', maybe will be worth quite a good deal some day and I must wait, + that's all. But, you see, that's what I can't do—wait.” + </p> + <p> + She had been, she said, to every one she could think of, to Pulcifer, who + would not give her any encouragement, declaring that he was “stuck” worse + than she was and was only hoping some one might make a bid for his + holdings; to Captain Jethro, who, relying as usual upon his revelations + from the beyond, blandly told her to wait as he was waiting. It had been + communicated to him that he was to sell his own shares at a profit; if she + waited she might do likewise. The president of the Denboro Trust Company + had been very kind, but his counsel was not too encouraging. The + Development shares were nonsalable at the present time, he said, but that + did not mean that they were valueless. The Skoonic Creek property was + good. Shore land on the Cape was becoming more valuable every year. Some + time—perhaps ten years from now—she might— + </p> + <p> + “And where will I be in ten years?” asked Martha, sadly. “Goodness knows, + Mr. Bangs, I don't. I tried to get the Trust Company man to take my shares + at almost any price and do the waitin' for me, but he didn't see it that + way. Said the bank was goin' to hold on to what it had, but it certainly + didn't want any more. So there I am.... And yet, and yet if I COULD sell—if + I COULD get two thousand dollars, yes, or even fifteen hundred just now, + it might tide me over until the cost of livin' comes down. And everybody + says they ARE comin' down. Mr. Bangs, can you see any way out for me? Can + you think of any one who would know about—Oh, my soul and body! Look + OUT!” + </p> + <p> + She sprang to her feet with a little scream. Her lodger's rocking-chair, + with its occupant, had suddenly tilted over backward. Fortunately his + proximity to the wall had prevented a complete overturn, but there sat + Galusha, the back of the chair against the wall and his knees elevated at + a very acute angle. The alarming part of it was that he made no effort to + regain his equilibrium, but remained in the unusual, not to say + undignified, posture. + </p> + <p> + “What IS the matter?” demanded Miss Phipps, seizing him by the arm and + pulling him forward. “What was it? What happened?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha's face was beaming. His eyes shone with excitement. + </p> + <p> + “It—it struck me at that moment,” he cried. “At that very moment.” + </p> + <p> + “Struck you?” Miss Phipps looked about the room. “What struck you? Where? + Are you hurt?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs' beaming smile broadened. + </p> + <p> + “I mean the idea struck me,” he declared. “Dear me, how odd that it didn't + do so before. Yes, he is exactly the right person. Exactly. Oh, dear me, + this is VERY good!” + </p> + <p> + Martha said afterward that she never in her life felt more like shaking a + person. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” she demanded. “What was it that struck you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Cousin Gussie,” announced Galusha, happily. “Don't you see? He will + be EXACTLY the one.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <p> + When, at last—and it took some time—Martha Phipps was actually + convinced that her lodger's “Cousin Gussie” was no less a person than the + senior partner of the famous banking firm of Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot, + she was almost as excited as he. + </p> + <p> + “Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot,” she repeated. “Why, everybody knows about + them! They are the biggest bankers in New England. I have heard father say + so ever so many times. And this Mr. Cabot, is he really your cousin?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha nodded. “Oh, yes,” he said. “He is my cousin—really he is. I + have always called him Cousin Gussie; that is,” he added, “except when I + worked for him, of course. Then he didn't like to have me.” + </p> + <p> + “Worked for him?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, in his office, in the—ah—banking house, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say you used to work for Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot? Were + you a banker?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha shook his head. “No,” he said. “Dear me, no! But once I tried to + be.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! And you gave it up?” + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</i> was given up—as a bad job. If you don't mind,” he added, + apologetically, “I'd rather not talk about that. I've gotten over it a + long while ago, or I thought I had, but for a time I—I felt very + badly—ah—ungrateful, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Martha didn't know, nor did she in the least understand, but she did not, + of course, press the subject. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I can hardly believe it,” she said. “That about your bein' that Mr. + Cabot's cousin, I mean. But of course I do believe it, if you say so, Mr. + Bangs. And you think he would tell me what to do with this Development + stock of mine, whether it is worth anything or not? He would know, if + anybody did, that's a fact.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha nodded assent. + </p> + <p> + “He knows all about everything,” he declared; “everything of that kind, I + mean. He is used to making all sorts of—ah—investments for + people, and taking care of their money, and all that sort of thing. Why,” + he added, as a final clincher, “he takes care of all my money, really, he + does.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phipps laughed. + </p> + <p> + “And that I suppose is enough to keep one man busy,” she observed. + </p> + <p> + Galusha was too much in earnest to notice the sarcasm. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure it must be,” he said. “I never could do it myself.” + </p> + <p> + “I can believe that without any trouble. Now what is your idea, Mr. Bangs; + to write to your cousin, tell him everything I've told you, and then ask + his advice? Is that it?” + </p> + <p> + That was not exactly it, apparently. Galusha thought that perhaps he might + go to Boston forthwith, on the very next train, and consult Cousin Gussie + in person. But Martha did not think this advisable. + </p> + <p> + “I certainly shouldn't put you to all that trouble,” she said. “No, I + shouldn't, so please don't let's waste time arguin' about it. And, + besides, I think a letter would be a great deal better.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha said that a letter was so slow. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe so, but it is sure. Truly now, Mr. Bangs, do you believe if you + went to your cousin that you could tell him this Development Company yarn + without gettin' it all tangled up? I doubt if you could.” + </p> + <p> + He reflected for a moment, and then ruefully shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid you are right,” he admitted. “I presume I could learn it—ah—by + rote, perhaps, but I doubt if ever I could understand it thoroughly.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, never mind. My plan would be to have you write your cousin a letter + givin' him all the particulars. I'll help you write the letter, if you'll + let me. And we'll ask him to write right back and tell us two things: + Number One—Is the Development stock worth anything, and what? Number + Two—If it is worth anything, can he sell it for that? What do you + think of that idea?” + </p> + <p> + Naturally, Galusha thought it a wonderful idea. He was very enthusiastic + about it. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Miss Phipps—Miss Martha, I mean,” he declared, “I really think + we—ah—may consider your troubles almost at an end. I shouldn't + be in the least surprised if Cousin Gussie bought that stock of yours + himself.” + </p> + <p> + Martha smiled, faintly. “I should,” she said, “be very much surprised. But + perhaps he may know some one who will buy it at some price or other. And, + no matter whether they do or not, I am ever and ever so much obliged to + you, Mr. Bangs, for all your patience and sympathy.” + </p> + <p> + And, in spite of her professed pessimism she could not help feeling a bit + more hopeful, even sharing a bit of her lodger's confidence. And so when + Primmie, in tears, came again that afternoon to beg to be retained in + service, Martha consented to try to maintain the present arrangement for a + few weeks more, at least. + </p> + <p> + “Although the dear land knows I shouldn't, Primmie,” she said. “It's just + postponin' what is almost sure to come, and that isn't right for either of + us.” + </p> + <p> + Primmie's grin extended from ear to ear. + </p> + <p> + “You bet you it's right for one of us, Miss Martha,” she declared. “And + you ain't the one, neither. My Lord of Isrul, if I don't feel some + better'n I did when I come into this room! Whew! My savin' soul! Zach + Bloomer he says to me this mornin'. 'What's the matter, Posy?' he says. + 'Seems to me you look sort of wilted lately. You better brace up,' he + says, 'or folks'll be callin' you a faded flower.' 'Well,' says I, 'I may + be faded, but there's one old p'ison ivy around here that's fresh enough + to make up.' Oh, I squashed HIM all righty, but I never took no comfort + out of doin' it. I ain't took no comfort for the last two, three days. But + now—Whew!” + </p> + <p> + The letter to Cousin Gussie was written that very afternoon. Mr. Bangs + wrote it, with helpful suggestions, many of them, from Miss Phipps. At + Martha's suggestion the envelope was marked “Personal.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it is foolish of me,” she said, “but somehow I hate to have my + affairs talked all over that office. Even when I was a little girl, and + things went wrong in school, I used to save up my cryin' until I got home. + I'm the same now. This Development Company milk is spilled, and, whether + any of it can be saved or not, there is no use callin' a crowd to look at + the puddle. If your cousin thinks it's necessary to tell other Boston + folks, I presume he will, but WE won't tell anybody but him.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha hoped to receive an answer the following day, but none came. Nor + did it come the next day, nor the next. That week passed and no reply came + from Cousin Gussie. Galusha began to worry a little, but Miss Phipps did + not. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he's away for a day or two, sick or somethin',” she suggested. + “Perhaps he's lookin' up some facts about the Development Company. Perhaps + he hasn't had time to read the letter at all yet. Mercy me, you mustn't + expect as busy a man as the head of Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot to drop + everything else and run around in circles attendin' to my little + two-for-a-cent business!” + </p> + <p> + The relative of the great man admitted that there was reason in this line + of argument, but he was impatient, nevertheless. His daily walks now + included trips to the post office. On one of those trips he caught a + glimpse of Mr. Pulcifer's hemispherical countenance through its wearer's + office window, and, on the spur of the moment's impulse, went in. + </p> + <p> + Horatio, who was smoking his customary cigar, reading a political circular + and humming “Beautiful Lady” all at the same time, looked up from the + reading and greeted him boisterously. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, well!” exclaimed Raish. “If it ain't the Perfessor again! + Welcome to amongst our midst, as the feller said. Have a chair, Perfessor. + How's things in the graveyard these days? Kind of dead around there, eh? + Haw, haw, haw!” + </p> + <p> + He enjoyed his joke and laugh and Galusha smiled because he felt that + politeness required it. When the laugh and smile had run their course, he + endeavored to come to the point. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Pulcifer,” he said, “I—if you are not too greatly occupied I + should like to ask—ah—a business question. Ah—may I?” + </p> + <p> + He most assuredly could. In fact, he was urged to ask it then and there. + </p> + <p> + “Never too busy to talk business, a feller usually ain't; eh, Perfessor? + Haw, haw! I'd say he wan't, eh? Set down, set down and ease your mind. + What's the business question? Let 'er go.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs let her go to the extent of stammering a request to be given his + companion's candid opinion concerning the shares of the Wellmouth + Development Company. He was—ah—somewhat interested in them, so + he said. + </p> + <p> + Raish leaned back in his chair and scrutinized the questioner. He shot at + least five deep-drawn puffs of smoke into the already murky air of the + little office before replying. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he grunted, after the fifth puff. “Wellmouth Development Company, + eh? You're interested in that, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—ah—yes, yes. To a certain extent, yes, Mr. Pulcifer.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! What d'you mean, interested? How interested?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, as—ah—as an investment, you know. As something to put + one's money into.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Was you thinkin' of puttin' some of yours into it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, not exactly. But, you see, a friend of mine—But, really, I + think I shouldn't give any further particulars at the present time. You'll + excuse me under the circumstances, Mr. Pulcifer, I'm sure. Dear me, I hope + you will.” + </p> + <p> + He was forgiven. Mr. Pulcifer assured him to that effect. But Raish was + still uncertain just how to proceed. He continued to puff and scrutinize. + </p> + <p> + “What I wish to know,” continued his caller, after another moment's + interval, “is—well, in short, I should like to know your opinion of + Wellmouth Development shares as an investment security.” + </p> + <p> + “Um—ye-es. Well, you said that before.” + </p> + <p> + “Did I? Dear me, I believe I did. Well, then, suppose, just suppose that I + actually did wish to buy some of those shares. Would you consider it a + good thing for me to do?” + </p> + <p> + Here at last was something tangible—and promising. Mr. Pulcifer's + puffy lids drew nearer together to hide the gleam behind them. He took the + cigar from his mouth and held it between the fingers of his right hand. + During his next speech he gesticulated with it. + </p> + <p> + “Would I consid—” he began, and then paused, apparently overcome by + his feelings. The pause was not long, however. “Would I consider Wellmouth + Development a good thing for you to put your money in? WOULD I?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah—yes. Would you?” + </p> + <p> + “Say, Perfessor, you listen to me. <i>I</i> know all about Wellmouth + Development. You've come to the right place. You listen.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha listened, listened for a long time. The red of the Pulcifer cigar + tip died out and that of the Pulcifer face brightened. + </p> + <p> + “And so I say,” vowed Raish, in conclusion, “with all that property behind + it and all that future ahead of it, if Development ain't a good + investment, what is?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, I'm sure,” confessed Galusha. “But—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't know? You bet you don't know! Nor nobody else. Not for quick + returns, maybe—though you can't never tell. But for a feller that's + willin' to buy and put away and hang on—say, how can you beat it?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, but—” + </p> + <p> + “You bet you don't know! The main thing is to buy right. And I'm goin' to + put you wise—yes, sir, wise to somethin' I wouldn't let every Tom, + Dick, and Harry in on, by a consider'ble sight. I think I can locate a + fair-sized block of that stock at—well, at a little bit underneath + the market price. I believe—yes, sir, I believe I can get it for you + at—at as low as eighteen dollars a share. I won't swear I can, of + course, but I MAY be able to. Only you'll have to promise not to tell + anybody how you got it.” + </p> + <p> + “Eighteen dollars a share? Is that a fair price, do you think, Mr. + Pulcifer?” + </p> + <p> + “FAIR price?” Mr. Pulcifer was overcome by the absurdity of the question. + “A fair price!” he repeated. “Man alive, it's a darned LOW price! You buy + Wellmouth Development at that price and then set back and hang on. Yes, + sir, that's all you'll have to do, just hang on and wait.” + </p> + <p> + To his surprise, Mr. Bangs seemed to find something humorous in this + suggestion. Instead of appearing thrilled, as he certainly should, he + smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—yes,” he observed, quietly. “That is what my friend has been + doing, I believe. Yes, indeed, just that.” + </p> + <p> + Raish did not smile. He looked puzzled and a bit perturbed. + </p> + <p> + “What friend?” he demanded. “Been doin' what?” + </p> + <p> + “Hanging on and waiting, as you advise, Mr. Pulcifer. She has had—ah—several + shares of the Development stock and she—” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on! Did you come here to SELL somebody's stock for 'em?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, not exactly. But, as I say, a friend of mine has some and she + was anxious to know what it was worth at the present time. When I tell her + that you will give eighteen dollars a share for it—” + </p> + <p> + “Here!” Raish's smile and his urbanity had vanished. “Here,” he demanded, + “what are you talkin' about? Who the devil said anything about my givin' + eighteen dollars a share?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I understood you to say that the—ah—shares were cheap at + that figure, that it was a very low price for them. You did say that, + didn't you?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pulcifer seemed to find articulation difficult. He blew and sputtered + like a stranded porpoise and his face became redder than ever, but he did + not answer the question. + </p> + <p> + “I understood—” began Galusha, again, but a roar interrupted him. + </p> + <p> + “Aw, you understand too darn much,” shouted Raish. “You go back and tell + Martha Phipps I say I don't know what them shares of hers are worth and I + don't care. You tell her I don't want to buy 'em and I don't know anybody + that does. Yes, and you tell her that if I did know anybody that was fool + enough to bid one dollar of real money for 'em I'd sell him mine and be + darn glad of the chance. And say, you tell her not to bother me no more. + She took her chance same as the rest of us, and if she don't like it she + can go—Eh? What is it?” + </p> + <p> + His caller had risen, rather suddenly for him, and was standing beside the + desk. There was a peculiar expression on his thin face. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” demanded Mr. Pulcifer. Galusha's gaze was very + direct. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't say that,” he said, quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Say what? I was just goin' to say that if Martha Phipps didn't like + waitin' same as the rest of us she—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” hastily, “I know. But I shouldn't say it, if I were you.” + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn't. Why not, for thunder sakes?” + </p> + <p> + “Because—well, I am sure you were speaking hastily—without + thinking.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that so? How do YOU know I wasn't thinkin'?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I am sure no one who had stopped to think would send that sort of + message to a lady.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!... Well, I swear!... Wouldn't send—I want to know!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—ah—and now you do know. Good-day, Mr. Pulcifer.” + </p> + <p> + He was at the door when the surprised and, to tell the truth, somewhat + disconcerted Horatio called after him. + </p> + <p> + “Here! Hold on, Perfessor,” he hailed; “don't go off mad. I didn't mean + nothin'. Er—er—say, Perfessor, I don't know's there's any use + in your tellin' Martha what I said about them Development shares bein' + cheap at eighteen. Of course, that was all—er—more or less of + a joke, you understand, and—Eh? What say?” + </p> + <p> + “I said I understood, Mr. Pulcifer.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—er—yes, yes. Glad you do; I thought you would. Now I tell + you what to do: You tell Martha... you tell her... say, what ARE you goin' + to tell her?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. Good-day, Mr. Pulcifer.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha did not tell Martha of the interview in the real estate dealer's + office, but the recollection of it did not tend to make him more easy in + his mind concerning her investment in Wellmouth Development Company. And, + as another week went by and still Cousin Gussie did not reply to the + letter of inquiry, his uneasiness grew with his impatience. Another and + more practical person would have called the Boston bankers by telephone, + but Galusha did not think of that. Martha offered no suggestions; her + advice was to wait. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think we ought to hurry your cousin, Mr. Bangs,” she said. “He's + probably lookin' into things, and he'll write when the time comes.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha devoutly wished the time would come soon. He somewhat felt a great + responsibility in the matter. This sense of responsibility caused him to + assume more and more optimism as his nervousness increased. Each day of + waiting found him covering his disappointment and anxiety with a more + cheerful prophecy. + </p> + <p> + “I've been thinking, Miss Martha,” he said, “that Cousin Gussie must be + MOST interested in the—ah—Development Company. I really + believe that he may be considering going into it himself—ah—extensively, + so to speak. The more he delays replying to our letter, the more certain I + am that this is the case. You see, it is quite logical. Dear me, yes. If + he were not interested at all he would have replied at once, any one + would. And if only a little interested, he would have replied—say, + at the end of a week. But now he has taken almost three weeks, so—so—well, + <i>I</i> think we may infer GREAT interest, personal interest on his part. + Now, don't you think so, Miss Martha?” + </p> + <p> + Martha shrugged. “Accordin' to that reasonin,” she said, “if he never + answers at all it'll be because he's interested to death. Well, it begins + to look as if that might be it. There, there, Mr. Bangs, I mustn't talk + that way, must I? We won't give up the ship as long's the pumps work, as + father used to say.” + </p> + <p> + It was the first symptom of discouragement she had shown. The next morning + Galusha crept downstairs before daylight, left a note on the dining table + saying he would be back next day, and started on his long tramp to the + railway station. At noon of that day he entered the Boston office of + Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot. + </p> + <p> + Disappointment met him at the threshold, so to speak. The young, extremely + young, gentleman at the desk by the door, informed him that Mr. Augustus + Cabot was not in. Pressed still further, he admitted that he would not be + in that day. No, he would not be in that week. No, he was not in Boston. + Where was he? Well, he had gone away and the date of his return was + extremely uncertain. + </p> + <p> + Galusha, his spirits at a low ebb, stroked his chin in sad perplexity. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me! Dear me!” he observed. And then added: + </p> + <p> + “Is—is anybody in?” + </p> + <p> + Considering that the space behind the mahogany and brass railings was + crowded with clerks and that from the various inner offices people were + constantly coming and going, the question was peculiar. The young guardian + of the portal seemed to find it so. He regarded Mr. Bangs with the puzzled + stare of one not certain whether he has to do with a would-be joker or an + imbecile. + </p> + <p> + “Say, who do you want to see?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Mr. Cabot—Mr. Augustus Cabot.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Cabot's away, I tell you. He's out of town.” + </p> + <p> + A tall, thin man of middle age, who had just emerged from one of the + private offices, paused beside them. He looked at Galusha through his + eyeglasses, and then held out his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Bangs!” he exclaimed. “It IS Bangs, isn't it? Glad to see you. Don't + you know me? I'm Minor. How are you?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha remembered him, of course. Minor had been a young assistant + bookkeeper in those far-off and dismal days when he, Galusha, had worked—or + attempted to work—in that very office. That was—mercy, that + was a great many years ago! Minor had changed very much. + </p> + <p> + They shook hands and Galusha was invited to come into Mr. Minor's private + office. + </p> + <p> + “Let me see,” said the latter, “you are—you are—What is your + business now? I did hear, but I've forgotten.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha told of his connection with the National Institute. + </p> + <p> + “I do—ah—archaeological work,” he added. “Egyptology is my + specialty.” + </p> + <p> + Minor nodded. “Yes, yes,” he said, doubtfully. “Just so.” + </p> + <p> + Plainly he regarded it as a weird sort of business. + </p> + <p> + “And you are still a—ah—banker?” queried Galusha. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Very much so. I'm second vice president here now.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me! dear me! You have been in this place ever since? Well, well!” + </p> + <p> + A pause, during which each regarded the other, trying not to show the pity + they felt. Then Minor asked if there was anything he could do for his + former associate. Galusha explained that he had come to town to see his + cousin, Mr. Augustus Cabot, on a business matter. Mr. Minor was surprised, + momentarily. + </p> + <p> + “That's so,” he said, “he is a relative of yours, isn't he? I had + forgotten.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, he is. He—ah—you see, he looks after things for me—investments + and—all that.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Well, if you wanted to see him personally, you're out of luck. He + is away out in the Sierras, somewhere. Been there for a month and he won't + come back till the doctors tell him he may. Goodness knows when that will + be.” + </p> + <p> + Cousin Gussie had, it appeared, suffered a severe nervous breakdown. The + physicians had ordered immediate dropping of business and business cares. + </p> + <p> + “He must drop everything, they said, and cut, if he wanted to head off + something a good deal more serious. He must get out of doors and stay + there; go to bed early at night—instead of early in the morning, + which had been more in his line—and rough it generally.” + </p> + <p> + “Why—yes, yes, indeed. That was almost precisely what the doctors + told me I must do. Rest and—ah—good air, you know, and + pleasant people. <i>I</i> was very fortunate, really. I am at—ah—Gould's + Bluffs, Cape Cod, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes? Well, he's away out in California or Nevada or thereabouts. His + secretary is with him—Thomas, the fellow he's had so many years; you + remember him. Thomas has gone along to see that the chief—Mr. Cabot, + I mean—doesn't get any business letters or wires or anything of that + sort. He looks out for those that do come, the personal matters.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Then perhaps my letter has been forwarded out there. That would + explain why I have received no answer. Yes, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure! Thomas will write you by and by, no doubt. But now that you are + here, why don't you see Barbour? Barbour is in charge of the chief's + outside affairs while Thomas is away. That is, he is in charge of + everything that can be handled here. The most important stuff goes to + Thomas, of course. But come in and see Barbour. Perhaps he can tell you + what you want to know.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Barbour was a bald-headed, worried-looking little man, who, in the + seclusion of a rear office, sat behind a big desk. Minor introduced + Galusha and Mr. Barbour extended a moist and flabby hand. Minor excused + himself and hastened out to the really important matters of life. Galusha + told Barbour the story of his letter to Cousin Gussie. He did not tell + what was in the letter, further than to say that it was an inquiry + concerning a certain investment security. + </p> + <p> + Barbour shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Everything marked 'Personal' I forward to Thomas,” he said. “He'll write + you pretty soon, although I'm pretty sure he won't trouble the chief with + your question. Doctors are mighty strict about that. Nothing we here can + do to help, is there? Perhaps Mr. Minor might answer your question.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha was thinking of Minor that very moment, but he shook his head. + Martha had asked that no one but Cousin Gussie be told of her trouble. No, + he would wait, at least until he heard from the secretary in the West. + </p> + <p> + “Why, thank you, Mr. Barbour,” he said, rising. “I—I will wait, I + think.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, sir. Sorry, but you see how it is. Drop in again, Mr.—er—Barnes. + Barnes was the name, wasn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, not exactly. My name is Bangs, but it really doesn't matter in the + least. Dear me, no. I am a relative of Mr. Cabot's. But that doesn't + matter either. Good-morning, Mr. Barbour.” + </p> + <p> + But it did seem to matter, after all. At any rate, Mr. Barbour for the + first time appeared actually interested. + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” he exclaimed. “Bangs? Oh, just a minute, Mr. Bangs. Just a minute, + if you please. Bangs? Why, are you—You're not the—er—professor? + Professor Ga—Ga—” + </p> + <p> + “Galusha. Yes, I am Galusha Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't mean it! Well, well, that's odd! I was planning to write you + to-day, Professor. Let me see, here's the memorandum now. We look after + your business affairs, I believe, Professor?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha nodded. He was anxious to get away. The significance of Cousin + Gussie's illness and absence and what those might mean to Martha Phipps + were beginning to dawn upon him. He wanted to get away and think. The very + last thing he wished to do was to discuss his own business affairs. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he admitted; “yes, you—ah—do. That is, Cousin Gussie—ah—Mr. + Cabot does. But, really, I—” + </p> + <p> + “I won't keep you but a moment, Professor. And what I'm going to tell you + is good news, at that. I presume it IS news; or have you heard of the + Tinplate melon?” + </p> + <p> + It was quite evident that Galusha had not heard. Nor, hearing now, did the + news convey anything to his mind. + </p> + <p> + “Melon?” he repeated. “Ah—melon, did you say?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes. The Tinplate people are—” + </p> + <p> + It was a rather long story, and telling it took longer than the minute Mr. + Barbour had requested. To Galusha it was all a tangled and most + uninteresting snarl of figures and stock quotations and references to + “preferred” and “common” and “new issues” and “rights.” He gathered that, + somehow or other, he was to have more money, money which was coming to him + because the “Tinplate crowd,” whoever they were, were to do something or + other that people like Barbour called “cutting a melon.” + </p> + <p> + “You understand, Professor?” asked Mr. Barbour, concluding his + explanation. + </p> + <p> + Galusha was at that moment endeavoring to fabricate a story of his own, + one which he might tell Miss Phipps. It must not be too discouraging, it + must— + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” he ejaculated, coming out of his daydream. “Oh, yes—yes, of + course.” + </p> + <p> + “As near as I can figure, your share will be well over twelve thousand. A + pretty nice little windfall, I should say. Now what shall I do with it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.... Oh, I beg your pardon. Dear me, I am afraid I was not attending + as I should.” + </p> + <p> + “I say what shall I do with the check when it comes. That was what I + intended writing you to ask. Do you wish me to reinvest the money, or + shall I send the check to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—ah—yes. If you will be so kind. You will excuse me, won't + you, but really I must hurry on. Thank you very much, Mr. Barbour.” + </p> + <p> + “But I don't quite understand which you wish me to do, Professor. Of + course, Thomas usually attends to all this—your affairs, I mean—but + I am trying not to trouble him unless it is absolutely necessary. Shall I + send the check direct to you, is that it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes, that will do very nicely. Thank you, Mr. Barbour. + Good-morning.” + </p> + <p> + He hurried out before Barbour could say any more. He cared nothing about + Tinplate melons or checks; in fact, he forgot them both almost before he + reached the street. But Martha Phipps—he had assured and reassured + Martha Phipps that Cousin Gussie would help her out of her financial + difficulties. And Cousin Gussie had not as yet learned of those + difficulties, nor, in all probability, would he be permitted ever to learn + of them. + </p> + <p> + Galusha Bangs' trip back to East Wellmouth was by no means a pleasure + excursion. What should he say to Martha? How could he be truthful and yet + continue to be encouraging? If he had not been so unreasonably optimistic + it would be easier, but he had never once admitted the possibility of + failure. And—no, he would not admit it now. Somehow and in some way + Martha's cares must be smoothed away. That he determined. But what should + he say to her now? + </p> + <p> + He was still asking himself that question when he turned in at the Phipps' + gate. And Fate so arranged matters that it was Primmie who heard the gate + latch click and Primmie who came flying down the path to meet him. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bangs! Oh, Mr. Bangs!” she cried, breathlessly. “It's all right, + ain't it? It's all right?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha, startled, stared at her. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me, Primmie,” he observed. “How you do—ah—bounce at one, + so to speak. What is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Matter? I cal'late we both know what's the matter, but what <i>I</i> want + to know is if it's goin' to keep ON bein' the matter. Is it all right? + Have you fixed it up?” + </p> + <p> + “Fixed what up? And PLEASE speak lower. Yes, and don't—ah—bounce, + if you don't mind.” + </p> + <p> + “I won't, honest I won't. But have you fixed up Miss Martha's trouble; you + and them Bancroft folks, I mean? Have you, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + “Bancroft folks?... How did you know I—” + </p> + <p> + “I seen it, of course. 'Twas in that note you left on the table.” + </p> + <p> + “Note? Why, Primmie, that note was for Miss Phipps. Why did you read it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why wouldn't I read it? There 'twas laid out on the table when I came + down to poke up the fire and set the kettle on. There wasn't no name on + it, so 'twan't till I'd read it clear through that I knew 'twas for Miss + Martha. It said: 'Have gone to Boston to see—er—what's-his-name + and Somebody-else and—' Never mind, Bancroft's all I remember, + anyhow. But it said you'd gone to them folks to see about 'stock matter.' + Well, then I knew 'twas for Miss Martha. <i>I</i> didn't have no stock + matters for folks to see about. My savin' soul, no! And then you said, + 'Hope to settle everything and have good news when I come back.' I + remember THAT all right.... Oh, Mr. Bangs, have you settled it? HAVE you + got good news for her?” + </p> + <p> + By this time she had forgotten all about the request to speak in a low + tone. Galusha glanced fearfully at the open door behind her. + </p> + <p> + “Sshh! shh, Primmie,” he begged. + </p> + <p> + “But have you? Have you, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, perhaps, Primmie. I mean—that is to say—” + </p> + <p> + He stopped. Miss Phipps was standing in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Mr. Bangs!” she exclaimed. “Are you here so soon? I didn't expect + you till to-night. What are you standin' out there in the cold for? Come + in, come in!” + </p> + <p> + And then Primmie, to make use of the expressive idiom of her friend, the + driver of the grocery cart, Primmie “spilled the beans.” She turned, saw + her mistress, and ran toward her, waving both hands. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Miss Martha!” she cried, “he—he's done it. He says it's all + right. He does! he does!” + </p> + <p> + “Primmie!” + </p> + <p> + “He says he's been to them—them Bancroft what's-his-name folks and + he's got the good news for you. Oh, ain't it elegant! Ain't it!” + </p> + <p> + This wild perversion of his guarded statement took Galusha completely by + surprise. He started forward aghast. And then he saw Martha Phipps' face. + Upon it were written such hope and relief and joy that the words of + expostulation and protest remained unspoken. And it was Martha who spoke + first. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mr. Bangs!” she gasped. “Oh, Mr. Bangs!” + </p> + <p> + Galusha's chin quivered. His face became very red. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why—why, Miss Martha, I—I—” + </p> + <p> + His agitation caused his teeth actually to chatter. Martha noticed the + chatter and misinterpreted the cause. + </p> + <p> + “Mercy me!” she cried. “You're standin' out there and freezin' to death. + Of course you are. Come right in! Primmie, open those stove dampers. Put + the kettle on front where it will boil quick.... No, Mr. Bangs, you + mustn't tell me a word until you're warm and rested. You would like to go + to your room, wouldn't you? Certainly you would. Primmie will bring you + hot water as soon as it's ready. No, don't try to tell me a word until + after you are rested and washed up.” + </p> + <p> + It was a welcome suggestion, not because Galusha was so eager to “wash + up,” but because he was eager, very eager, to be alone where no one could + ask more embarrassing questions. Yet the last thing he saw as he closed + his room door was the expression upon Miss Phipps' face. Hope, relief, + happiness! And what he had to tell would change them all. + </p> + <p> + Oh, if he had not been so foolishly optimistic! What should he say? If he + told the exact truth—the whole truth— + </p> + <p> + But there, what was the whole truth? After all, he did not KNOW that + nothing would come of his letter to Cousin Gussie. Something might come of + it. Yes, even something very good might come. If Cousin Gussie himself + never saw the letter, Thomas, the secretary, would see it and very likely + he would write encouragingly. He might—it was quite likely that he + would—give the names of other Boston financiers to whom Wellmouth + Development might be of interest. In this case, or even the probability of + such a case, he, Galusha, would certainly not be justified in making his + story too discouraging. + </p> + <p> + When, at last, he did descend to the sitting room, where Miss Phipps was + awaiting him, the tale he told her bore very little resemblance to the + hopeless, despairful narrative he had, while on the way down in the train, + considered inevitable and the telling of which he had so dreaded. In fact, + when it was finished Martha's expression had changed but little. She still + looked happy. + </p> + <p> + She drew a long breath. “Well!” she exclaimed, “I can hardly believe it; + it seems almost too good to believe. And so that secretary man told you + that he felt sure that your cousin, or his other secretary—how many + secretaries does one man have to have, for mercy sakes?—would attend + to the Development thing and it would be all right if we would just wait a + little longer? Was that it?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha, who, in his intense desire not to be discouraging, had not until + now realized how far he had gone in the other direction, blinked and wiped + his forehead with his handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + “That was it, wasn't it?” repeated Martha. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why—ah—yes, about that, as—ah—one might + say. Yes.” + </p> + <p> + It was the first lie Galusha Bangs had told for many, many years, one of + the very few he had ever told. It was a very white lie and not told with + deliberation or malice aforethought. But, as so often happens, it was + destined to be the father of a pestilential pack which were neither white + nor unintentional. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <p> + About the Phipps' home hung now the atmosphere of expectancy. It had so + hung for several weeks, ever since the first letter to Cousin Gussie had + been posted, but now there was in it a different quality, a quality of + brightness, of cheer. Martha seemed more like herself, the capable, + adequate self which Galusha had met when he staggered into that house out + of the rain and wind of his first October night on Cape Cod. She was more + talkative, laughed more frequently, and bustled about her work with much, + if not all, of her former energy. She, herself, was quite aware of the + change and commented upon it rather apologetically in one of her talks + with her lodger. + </p> + <p> + “It's ridiculous,” she said, “and I know it, but I can't help it. I'm as + excited as a child and almost as sure everything is goin' to come out + right as—well, as Primmie is. I wasn't so at all in the beginnin'; + when we first sent that letter to your cousin I didn't think there was + much more than one chance in a thousand that he would take any interest in + Wellmouth Development stock. But since you got back from your Boston + cruise, Mr. Bangs, I've felt altogether different. What the Cabot, + Bancroft and Cabot folks said wasn't any too definite; when I sit right + down and think about it I realize it wasn't. But it was encouraging, real + encouraging. And that bit of real encouragement has made me over, like an + old dress. Which reminds me that I've got to be makin' over some of MY old + dresses pretty soon, or summer'll be here and I won't have a thing fit to + wear. I declare,” she added, with a laugh, “this is the first time I've + even thought about clothes since last fall. And when a woman forgets to be + interested in dressmakin' she's pretty far gone.... Why, what makes you + look so sorrowful? Is anything wrong?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha replied that nothing whatever was wrong; there was, he said, no + reason in the world why he should appear sorrowful. Yet, this answer was + not the exact truth; there were reasons, and speeches such as Miss + Martha's reminded him of them. They awoke his uneasy conscience to the + fear that the encouragement she found in his report from Cabot, Bancroft + and Cabot was almost entirely due to his interpretation of that report and + not to the facts behind it. However, as she must on no account guess this + to be the case, he smiled and assumed an air more than ever carefree. + </p> + <p> + One afternoon, when, on his way home after an unusually lengthy walk, he + stopped at the post office, he found that the Phipps' mail had already + been delivered. + </p> + <p> + “Zach Bloomer stopped along in and took it,” explained Miss Tamson Black, + the postmaster's sister-in-law. “I told him I presumed likely you'd be + here after it yourself pretty soon, but it didn't make no difference. He + said—but maybe I better not tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes—no doubt,” observed Galusha, who was, as usual, paying + little attention. + </p> + <p> + Tamson, plainly disappointed at his lack of curiosity, elevated her thin + nose. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she observed, “what he SAID was that, fur's things bein' here was + concerned, Christmas would be here, give it time enough. Pretty sassy kind + of talk, <i>I</i> call it, but maybe you ain't so partic'lar, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me! Of course. Well, well!... Oh, were there any letters for—ah—for + me, may I ask?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, there was, two of 'em. That's what made me cal'late you might + like to get 'em first yourself. I knew you didn't get letters very often, + Mr. Bangs; that is, I've noticed you ain't since I've been helpin' in this + office. Anyhow, 'most anybody would rather get their own mail private than + have Zach Bloomer cartin' it from land-knows-where to never-and-gone, + smellin' it all up with old tobacco pipes and fish or whatever else he + carries 'round in his pockets. Course I don't mean he lugs fish around in + his pocket, 'tain't likely—He, he, he—but that old coat of his + always smells like a—like a porgie boat. And I don't know's I mean + that those letters of yours were any more 'special private than common; + anyhow, both envelopes was in MALE handwritin'—He, he, he! But I + noticed one was stamped from way out in—in Nevada, seems if 'twas, + so—” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” Galusha came to life with astonishing quickness. “From—from + Nevada, did you say?” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. I remember it real plain now. You see, it kind of caught my eye as + I was sortin.' We don't never get much mail from Nevada—not in this + office we don't never hardly. So when I see... Well, my good land!” + </p> + <p> + The exclamation was caused by the unceremonious suddenness of Mr. Bangs' + exit. He was well across the road by the time Miss Black reached the + window. + </p> + <p> + “My good land!” exclaimed Tamson again. Later she told her brother-in-law + that she cal'lated that Nevada letter was maybe more private than she + cal'lated first, and that she bet you she was goin' to look pretty hard at + the handwritin' on the NEXT one that come. + </p> + <p> + Primmie, apparently, had been watching through the kitchen window for + Galusha to appear. At any rate, she opened the door for him. Her mouth + opened also, but he, for perhaps the first time in their acquaintanceship, + spoke first. + </p> + <p> + “I know—I know, Primmie,” he said, hastily; “or if I don't know you + can tell me later on. Ah—please don't delay me now.” + </p> + <p> + Primmie was struggling between surprise and disappointment. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she observed, as the little man hurriedly shed his hat and coat; + “well, all right, Mr. Bangs. Only Zach, he told me to be sure and tell + you, and tell you how sorry he was that it happened, and that he can't + exactly figger out just how it did come to happen, neither.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” Galusha paused, with one arm still in the sleeve of his overcoat. + “Happen? What has happened to—ah—Mr. Bloomer?” + </p> + <p> + “Ain't nothin' happened to him. 'Twas him that made it happen to your + letter. And THAT letter of all letters! You see, Zach he don't exactly + remember when 'twas he got it from the post office, but it must have been + much as a week ago, sartin sure. Anyhow, when he took out the lighthouse + mail he left this letter in the pocket, and to-day, just now, when he got + them other letters of yours and put 'em in the same pocket, he found the + first one. And when I see that 'Cabot, What-d'ye-call-it and Cabot' name + printed out right on the envelope and it come over me that 'twas THAT + letter he'd forgot and had been totin' 'round with him, 'WELL,' says I. + 'My Lord of Isrul!' I says—” + </p> + <p> + “Primmie! Primmie, stop! Stop—please! And tell me: Where are those + letters?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? I was goin' to tell you. <i>I</i> put 'em right here on the dinin' + room table, but Miss Martha she carted 'em off upstairs to your bedroom. + Said she presumed likely you'd want to open 'em by yourself. <i>I</i> + don't see why—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush! Hush! Where is—ah—Miss Phipps?” + </p> + <p> + “She's in the settin' room. Told me not to disturb her, she wanted to be + alone. I—” + </p> + <p> + Galusha hastened away, leaving the excited Miss Cash still talking. From + the foot of the stairs he caught a glimpse of Martha in the chair by the + front window of the sitting room, looking out. She must have heard him, + but she did not turn her head. Nor did he speak to her. Time enough for + that when he had read what was in those letters. + </p> + <p> + There they were, three of them, upon his bureau. He picked up the one on + top. It bore upon the envelope the words “National Institute, Washington, + D. C.,” and was, he knew, merely a monthly report. Usually such reports + were of great interest to him; this one was not. He had really important + matters to claim his attention. + </p> + <p> + The second letter was, obviously, that which the forgetful Zacheus had + carried about with him for a week. In the corner was the Cabot, Bancroft + and Cabot name. He tore it open. An oblong slip of paper fell to the + floor. He did not even stoop to pick this up, for there was a letter, too. + It began: + </p> + <p> + “Prof. Galusha Bangs, East Wellmouth, Mass. + </p> + <p> + “DEAR SIR: + </p> + <p> + “Pursuant to your instructions in our conversation of recent date I am + enclosing check representing your share of the new Tinplate re-issue, sale + of rights, transfer of old stock, bonus, etc. The transfer has been, as I + told you I felt sure it would be, very advantageous and profitable to + stockholders like yourself. The amount due you, as shown in statement + attached, is—” + </p> + <p> + Galusha read no further. What did he care for Tinplate, profits, business, + or anything like that! There was not a word in the letter concerning + Wellmouth Development. It was a bitter disappointment. + </p> + <p> + But there was the third letter, the letter from Nevada. He opened that. + The first page which he looked at was that bearing the signature. Yes, the + letter was from George L. Thomas, and George L. Thomas was Cousin Gussie's + private secretary. At last! + </p> + <p> + The letter shook in Galusha's fingers as he began to read. Mr. Thomas was + glad to hear from him, glad to learn that he was in better health, etc.... + All right enough, this beginning, but not at all important. Thomas also + felt sure that he, Professor Bangs, would be grateful to know that Mr. + Cabot's condition was, so his physician seemed to think, steadily + improving. The improvement was slow, of course, which was to be expected, + but... a long paragraph here which Galusha skipped. He was highly pleased + to know that Cousin Gussie was better, but at present that was sufficient; + he could not waste time in reading details of the convalescence. WHY + didn't the man get down to business? + </p> + <p> + Ah, here it was! Mr. Thomas wrote: + </p> + <p> + “In your letter to Mr. Cabot I note your inquiry concerning the stock of + the Wellmouth Development Company, its desirability as an investment, the + likelihood of present sale, and so on. I know nothing of the matter + personally, and am not in a position to ascertain at the present time. + Speaking in a general way, however, and with my only knowledge of the + facts in the case that supplied by your letter, I should suggest that your + friend keep his stock and await developments. I am quite sure that a + forced sale—if such a sale could now be made at any price, which I + doubt—would involve the sacrifice of almost the entire amount + invested. I should suggest holding on and waiting.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha passed his shaking hand across his perspiring forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear me!” he said aloud. + </p> + <p> + “This would be my advice,” went on the letter, “but if you wish a more + positive answer I suggest your writing Mr. Minor at our Boston office. He + will be very glad to look into the matter for you, I am sure, although I + am practically certain his views will agree with mine. Of course, as you + will understand, it is quite impossible to mention your inquiry to Mr. + Cabot. He is here to regain his health, which is still very far from + normal, his doctor is with him, and the one word which is positively + forbidden is 'Business.' Mr. Cabot is supposed to forget that there is + such a thing. By the way he spoke of you only the other day, and jokingly + said he wondered how mummies and quahaugs were mixing. The fact that he is + beginning to joke once more we all consider most encouraging....” + </p> + <p> + A paragraph or two more of this sort of thing and then Mr. Thomas' + signature. Galusha stared at the letter dully. This—this was what he + and Martha Phipps had awaited so long! This was the outcome of his + brilliant idea which was to save the Phipps' home... and its owner's peace + of mind... and Primmie... and .... + </p> + <p> + Oh, dear me! dear me! + </p> + <p> + Galusha walked slowly across the room to the chair by the window, and, + sitting down, continued to stare hopelessly at the letter in his hand. He + read it for the second time, but this rereading brought no comfort + whatever. Rather, it served to bring home to him the hard realities of the + whole wretched affair. Cousin Gussie's interest was what he had banked on, + and that interest was absolutely unapproachable. To write Minor at the + Boston office was a possibility, of course, but, in his present frame of + mind Galusha felt no hope that such a proceeding would help. Thomas had + written what amounted to that very thing; Thomas was “practically certain” + that Minor's views would agree with his. And, besides, to write Minor + meant another long wait, and Martha Phipps must be very close to her limit + of waiting. How could he summon the courage to descend to the sitting room + and tell her that she must prepare for another period of waiting, with + almost certain disappointment at the end? + </p> + <p> + A temperament like Galusha Bangs' is capable of soaring to the heights and + descending to the depths. Just now the elevator was going down, and down + it continued to go to the very subcellar. It was dark in that subcellar, + not a ray of light anywhere. Galusha realized now, or thought he did, that + all his great scheme for helping Martha to dispose of her Development + shares had been based upon nothing substantial, nothing but rainbow-tinted + hopes which, in turn, were based upon nothing but wishes. Omitting the + hopes and wishes, what was there left? Just what the president of the + Trumet Trust Company had told Martha and what Raish Pulcifer, when angered + into truthtelling, had told him. That is, that the shares of the Wellmouth + Development Company might be worth something some day, but that now they + were worth nothing, because no one would buy them. + </p> + <p> + Yes... yes, that was the truth.... But how could he go down to the sitting + room and tell Martha Phipps that truth, having already told her so much + that was quite different? + </p> + <p> + If she would only let him lend her the five thousand dollars, or whatever + it was. He did not know how much Cousin Gussie was taking care of for him + at present, but there had been a large sum at the time of Aunt Clarissa's + death. He remembered that the figures had quite frightened him then. He + had not thought much about them since, because they did not interest him. + He always had enough for his needs and more than enough, and dividends, + and interests, and investments and all such things bored him and made him + nervous. But, now that he WAS interested in an investment—Martha + Phipps' investment—it brought home to him the undisputable fact that + he, Galusha Bangs, had plenty of money to lend, if he wished to lend it. + </p> + <p> + And if Cousin Gussie, or Cousin Gussie's representatives, would let him + have it for such a purpose! Cousin Gussie always made such an unpleasant + disturbance when he expressed a desire for any of his money, asked so many + embarrassing questions as to what was to be done with it, and the like. If + he should go now and ask for five thousand dollars to lend Martha Phipps, + what... + </p> + <p> + But Martha Phipps would not accept a loan, anyway. She had told him that + very thing, and he knew her well enough by this time to know she meant + what she said. + </p> + <p> + Yet there remained the imminent and dreadful question: How, how, HOW could + he go down to where she was sitting waiting and tell her that her hopes, + hopes which he had raised, were based solely upon the vaporings of an + optimistic donkey? + </p> + <p> + In his wrathful disgust with that donkey he shifted angrily in his chair + and his foot struck a bit of paper upon the floor. It rustled and the + rustle attracted his attention. Absently he stepped and picked up the + paper. It was the slip which had fallen from the Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot + letter and was a check drawn to his order for fourteen thousand, three + hundred and ten dollars and thirty-eight cents, his share of the Tinplate + “melon.” + </p> + <p> + Fifteen more minutes passed before Mr. Bangs came down to the sitting + room, but when he did he came in a great hurry. He dashed into the + apartment and announced his intention of starting for Boston at once. + </p> + <p> + “And—and if you will be so kind as to let me have those—ah—shares + of yours, Miss Martha,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Martha looked at him. She had been rather pale when he entered, but now + the color rushed to her face. + </p> + <p> + “Shares?” she repeated. “Do you mean—” + </p> + <p> + “Those—ah—Development shares of yours—yes. If you will + be good enough to let me take them with me—” + </p> + <p> + “Take them with you?... Oh, Mr. Bangs, you don't mean you have heard from + your cousin and that he is goin' to—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—ah—yes,” broke in Galusha, hastily. “I have heard. I am + to—that is, I must take the shares with me and go to Boston at once. + If you will be willing to entrust them to me, Miss Martha.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll get 'em this minute.” She started toward the stairs, but paused and + turned. + </p> + <p> + “Is it really settled, Mr. Bangs?” she asked, as if scarcely daring to + believe in the possibility. “Are they really goin' to buy that Wellmouth + stock of mine?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why—” Galusha was yawing badly, but he clutched the helm + and kept on the course; “I—ah—hope so, Miss Martha, I hope + so.” + </p> + <p> + “And pay me—pay me MONEY for it?” + </p> + <p> + “I presume so. I hope so. If you will—” + </p> + <p> + “I declare, it doesn't seem possible! Who, for mercy sakes, is goin' to + buy it? Mr. Cabot, himself?” + </p> + <p> + He had been expecting this and was prepared for it. He had rehearsed his + answer many times before coming downstairs. He held up a protesting hand. + </p> + <p> + “I am very sorry,” he said, “but—but, you see, that is a—ah—secret, + I understand. Of course, they did not write me who was to buy the stock + and so—and so—” + </p> + <p> + “And so you don't know. Well, it doesn't make a bit of difference, really. + The Lord knows I shouldn't care so long as I sell it honestly and don't + cheat anybody. And a big house like Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot ought to + know what they're doin' when they buy, or let any of their customers buy. + I'll get the certificate this very minute, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + She hastened up the stairs. Galusha wiped his forehead and breathed + heavily. There was a knock on the door leading to the dining room; it + opened and Primmie's head appeared. + </p> + <p> + “I heard her go upstairs,” she whispered, hoarsely. “Is it all right, Mr. + Bangs? Was there good news in that What-you-call-it-Bancroft letter, Mr. + Bangs? Was there?” + </p> + <p> + “Go away, Primmie! Go AWAY!” + </p> + <p> + “I'm a-goin'. But was there?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—ah—no—I—I guess so.” + </p> + <p> + “Lord everlastin' of Isrul! My savin' soul!” + </p> + <p> + Martha's footsteps on the stairs caused the head to disappear and the door + to close. Miss Phipps appeared, her hand clasping a highly ornate + document. + </p> + <p> + “Here's the certificate,” she said, breathlessly. “I'm so upset and + excited I don't know hardly whether I'm in the channel or hard aground, as + father used to say, but I've signed my name on the back. Once when I sold + two shares of railroad stock he left me I had to sign on the back there. I + HOPE I've done it in the right place.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha declared the signature to be quite right, yes. As a matter of + fact, he could not have told for certain that there was a signature there. + He crammed the certificate into his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my sakes!” protested Martha, “you aren't goin' to just put it loose + into that pocket, are you? Don't you think it ought to go in your—your + wallet, or somewhere?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Why—why, I presume it had.... Dear me, yes.... It would be a—a + joke if I lost it, wouldn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “A JOKE! Well, it wouldn't be my notion of a joke, exactly.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear, dear! Did I say 'joke'? I didn't mean that it would actually be—ah—humorous, + of course. I meant... I meant.... Really, I don't think I know what I + meant.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe you do. Mr. Bangs, I truly think you are more excited + about all this than I am, and all on my account. What can I ever say—or + do—to—” + </p> + <p> + “Please, please, Miss Martha! Dear me, dear me, DON'T speak in that way. + It's so—ah—nonsensical, you know. Now if—if I may have + my coat and—ah—cap—” + </p> + <p> + “Cap! Goodness gracious, you weren't plannin' to wear that old cap, + earlaps and all, to Boston, were you? And—mercy me! I didn't think + of it until this minute—the train doesn't go for 'most two hours.” + </p> + <p> + She burst out laughing and, because she was overwrought and a trifle + hysterical, she laughed a good deal. Galusha laughed even longer than she + did, not because he was hysterical, but because laughing was very much + easier and safer than answering embarrassing questions. + </p> + <p> + When it really was time to leave for the railroad station and Galusha, NOT + wearing the earlapped cap, but hatted and garbed as became his rank and + dignity, was standing on the stone step by the outside door, she said: + </p> + <p> + “Now do be careful, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes, I will, I promise you. I shall keep one hand in my pocket, + holding the pocketbook with the certificate in it, until I get to the + office. I shall think of nothing else.” + </p> + <p> + “Mercy me, think of SOMETHIN' else, please! Think of yourself when you're + goin' across those Boston streets or you'll be run over. I declare, I + don't know as I ought to let you go.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I shall be quite safe, quite. But, really,” he added, with a puzzled + smile, “I can't tell you how odd this seems. When I was a boy my Aunt + Clarissa, I remember, used to caution me about—about crossing the + streets, and so on. It makes me feel quite young again to have you do it, + Miss Martha. I assure you it does.” + </p> + <p> + Martha regarded him gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Hasn't anybody since ever told you to be careful?” she asked; “anybody + since your aunt died, I mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, I think not. I presume,” he added, with the air of one + suggesting a happy explanation, “I presume no one has—ah—been + sufficiently interested. It would have been peculiar if they had been, of + course.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum!... Well, I hope you won't think I am impudent for remindin' you to + look out.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, indeed. It is very nice of you to take the trouble. I like it, + really I do.” + </p> + <p> + The office of Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot was closed when his train reached + Boston, so he went to a hotel and remained there over-night. But he was on + hand at the banking office early the next morning. In the interval he had + time for more reflection and, as a result, he determined not to go to Mr. + Barbour with his business. The fear that knowledge of what he was about to + do would reach Cousin Gussie's ears was strong upon him. Doubtless it was + a fact that he had a right to do what he pleased with his own money, but + it was also a fact that Cousin Gussie seemed to think he had no such + right. Barbour was the Cabot secretary, or assistant secretary, so + decidedly it was best not to go to Barbour. + </p> + <p> + It was Minor whom he saw as he entered the banking house and to Minor he + divulged his business. Taking from his pocketbook the Tinplate check, he + asked if he might have it—ah—broken up, so to speak. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” he explained, “I want to get—ah—five thousand + dollars.” + </p> + <p> + Minor appeared rather puzzled at first, and Mr. Bangs' tangled and nervous + explanations did not seem to enlighten him greatly. At last, however, he + caught the idea. + </p> + <p> + “I see,” he said. “You don't want to deposit and draw against it; you want + two checks instead of one. One check for five thousand and the other for + the balance.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, yes,” assented Galusha, much relieved. “That is it, exactly. I + am very much obliged to you—indeed I am—yes.” + </p> + <p> + Minor took him to one of the windows and introduced him to the clerk at + the desk behind it. + </p> + <p> + “Give Mr. Bangs whatever he wants,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Galusha explained. The clerk asked how he would have the + five-thousand-dollar check made out. + </p> + <p> + “In your own name?” he asked. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Mr. Bangs reflected. “Why—ah—” he stammered, “I should prefer it +in—ah—some other name, if possible. I should prefer that my name was +not connected with it, if you don't mind.” + </pre> + <p> + “In the name of the person you intend paying it to?” inquired the clerk. + </p> + <p> + Galusha reflected again. If Martha Phipps' name were written on that check + it would be possible that, some day or other, Cousin Gussie might see it. + And if he saw it, questions would be asked, embarrassing questions. + </p> + <p> + “No-o,” he said, hesitatingly; “no, I think I should not care to have her—that + is, to have that person's name appear, either. Isn't there some way by + which the sum could be paid without any one's name appearing? A check to—to—oh, + dear me! why CAN'T I think of it?” + </p> + <p> + “To bearer, you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “That's it, that's it. A check to bearer would be very satisfactory, very + satisfactory, indeed. Thank you very much.” + </p> + <p> + The clerk, who was a painstaking young man, destined to rise in his + profession, inspected the odd individual outside the railing. + </p> + <p> + “A check to bearer is almost the same as cash,” he said. “If you should + lose it, it would be negotiable—practically the money itself, or + pretty near it.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha started. He looked radiantly happy. + </p> + <p> + “That's it!” he exclaimed. “That's it, of course. Thank you for the + suggestion. The money will be the very thing. It will be such a delightful + surprise. And there will be no one's name upon it at all. I will take the + money, of course.” + </p> + <p> + It took some time to convince the astonished clerk that Mr. Bangs actually + wished five thousand dollars in currency, but he finally was convinced. + </p> + <p> + “How will you have it?” he asked. “Small bills or large?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha apparently did not care. Any denominations would be quite + satisfactory, he affirmed. So, when the transaction was finished, and he + left the Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot office, it was with a new check for + nine thousand, three hundred and ten dollars and thirty-eight cents in his + pocketbook and in his trousers' pocket a roll of bills as thick as his + wrist. By way of modification to this statement, it may be well to explain + that Galusha Bangs' wrists, considered AS wrists, were by no means thick. + </p> + <p> + The clerk stared after him as he departed and a fellow clerk paused to ask + questions. + </p> + <p> + “Who was the old guy?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Name's Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + “What is he?” + </p> + <p> + “A nut,” was the reply, given with the assurance of absolute conviction. + </p> + <p> + The “nut” traveled back to East Wellmouth upon the afternoon train and, + back once more in the Phipps' sitting room, “shelled out” upon the center + table. Martha stared at the heap of bills and caught her breath with a + gasp. + </p> + <p> + Galusha deposited the last bank note upon the table. “There!” he + exclaimed, with satisfaction; “that is all, I believe. And I have actually + gotten it here—all of it. I am quite sure I haven't lost a—a + penny. Dear me, that is a very remarkable thing to do—for me to do, + I mean.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phipps did not answer and, turning, he saw that she was sitting in + the rocking-chair, her hand to her forehead. Her face was white. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me!” he exclaimed, in alarm. “Miss Martha, are you ill?” + </p> + <p> + Still she did not answer and, very much frightened, he hastened to the + door, opened it, and shouted for Primmie. The summons for her handmaiden + acted as a complete restorative. Martha came to life at once. + </p> + <p> + “WHAT in the world are you callin' Primmie for?” she demanded. “I don't + want her. I wouldn't have her see all that.... Oh, good heavens and + earth!” + </p> + <p> + Primmie was already in the room. She, as Mr. Bangs would have described + it, bounced in. + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm—I mean yes, sir,” was her salutation. “Here I be.... Oh, my + savin' soul of Isrul!” + </p> + <p> + She had seen the mound of money upon the table. Two minutes later Martha + and her lodger were again alone in the sitting room. Primmie had been, + gently but firmly, escorted to outer darkness and the door closed behind + her. She was still asking questions and calling for her ransomed spirit + and the ruler of Israel; they could hear her do so even through the door. + The exclamations died away in the direction of the kitchen. Miss Phipps, + who had done escort duty, turned toward Galusha and ruefully shook her + head. + </p> + <p> + “I GUESS there isn't anybody I'd rather should not have been here just now + than Primmie Cash,” she observed. “If there is I can't think of their + names. Mr. Bangs, I know you meant well, because you couldn't mean any + other way, but would you mind tellin' me WHY you called for her?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha blinked in bewildered fashion behind his spectacles. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why,” he stammered, “you—you see—why, I spoke to + you several times and you did not answer—and you were so pale, I + thought—I thought—” + </p> + <p> + “You thought I was sick and so you sung out for Primmie. Humph! that's a + good deal like jumpin' into the well to get out of the rain. But there, + never mind. So I looked pale and didn't answer when you spoke? Do you + wonder? Mr. Bangs,” she moved to the table and laid a hand, which trembled + a good deal, upon the pile of bills, “is this money really mine?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—oh, yes, indeed. It is yours, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “All of it? It doesn't seem possible. How much is there here?” + </p> + <p> + He told her. She lifted the topmost bills from the heap and reverently + laid them down again. + </p> + <p> + “Five thousand dollars!” she repeated. “It's like—it's like + somethin' in a dream, or a book, isn't it? I can hardly believe I am + Martha Phipps. So they did think Wellmouth Development was worth + somethin', after all. And they paid—why, Mr. Bangs, they paid the + full price, didn't they! Twenty dollars a share; as much as father paid in + the first place.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—ah—yes, of course. Yes, indeed. Are you sure you feel + quite well again, Miss Martha?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure. But what did they say when they bought it, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + “Say? Ah, say?... Why, they said—ah—um—they said there + was the money and—and I counted it, you know, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes. But didn't they say anything about the stock; about why they + bought it, and like that?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no... no, I think nothing was—ah—so to speak—ah—said. + They—ah—Won't you sit down again, Miss Martha? I think you had + better.” + </p> + <p> + “Sit down! Mr. Bangs, I'm too excited to sit down. I could fly, I think, a + good deal easier than I could sit; at least, I feel as if I could. And so + they just bought that stock and said nothing more than that? Just bought + it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—ah—yes, that's it. They—ah—bought it, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems strange. What did your cousin say?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah—my cousin? Cousin Gussie, you mean. Yes, yes, of course. Oh, he + said—ah—all sorts of things.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he? About the stock?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, not about the stock so much. No, not so much about that, about... + a sort of general conversation it was, about—about the weather, and—and + the like.” + </p> + <p> + “The weather? Did he write about the weather in his letter?” + </p> + <p> + He had for the moment forgotten that his relative was an invalid in the + Far West and that Miss Phipps knew it. He turned red, coughed, stammered + and then broke out in a series of fragmentary and involved explanations to + the effect that Cousin Gussie was—ah—naturally much interested + in the weather because of his state of health and—and—She paid + little heed, for in the midst of his explaining she interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never mind, never mind,” she said. “It doesn't make one bit of + difference and why I asked about it I don't know. You see, Mr. Bangs, I'm + not back on earth yet, as you might say, and I don't suppose I shall be + for a little while, so you'll have to be patient with me. All I can think + of is that now I can live here in this house, for a while longer anyhow, + and perhaps always. And I sha'n't have to turn Primmie away. And—and + maybe I won't have to lie awake night after night, plannin' how I can do + this and do without that—and—and—” + </p> + <p> + She stopped, her sentence unfinished. Galusha said nothing. A moment later + she turned to him. + </p> + <p> + “Should I write your cousin a letter and thank him, do you think?” she + asked. + </p> + <p> + Galusha's reply was hurriedly given and most emphatic. “Oh, no, no,” he + protested. “It will be quite unnecessary, quite. Indeed, no. He—ah—he + would not expect it.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I presume likely he wouldn't. And, after all, it was just a matter of + business with his firm. But it wasn't a matter of business with you, Mr. + Bangs. And if it hadn't been for you, I—I—Well, I mustn't say + any more or—or... Oh, you understand what I want to say, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Now—now, Miss Martha, please. I have done nothing, really, nothing + but what any friend would have done.” + </p> + <p> + “Any friend like you, you mean. I don't know where there are any more such + friends, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, PLEASE. Miss Martha, I—I HOPE you won't mention this again. It + will oblige me greatly if you will not. Really, I—I mean it.” + </p> + <p> + She nodded, slowly. “Yes,” she said, “bein' you, I think you do mean it. + So I won't say any more; but I shall think a great deal, Mr. Bangs, and I + never shall stop thinkin'.... There! And now what shall I do with all this + money? Of course, I'll put it in the bank to-morrow, but what will I do + with it to-night? By the way,” she added, “it seems queer they should have + paid you in cash instead of a check. Why did they, I wonder?” + </p> + <p> + Here was a demand for more explaining. Galusha plunged headlong, + foundered, and then emerged, like a dog, with an explanation, such as it + was, between his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “They—ah—they thought the money would be safer,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Martha laughed aloud. “Safer?” she repeated. “Why, that's funny. Perhaps + they're right, but I know the only way I shall feel safe between now and + bankin' time tomorrow is to stay awake and watch every minute. Oh, I + sha'n't do that exactly, of course, but I'm beginnin' to realize the + responsibility of havin' riches. Ah hum! I laugh, Mr. Bangs, but you + mustn't think it's because I don't realize what you—I mean... well, + I guess I laugh because I'm kind of hysterical and—happy. I haven't + been so happy for a long, long time. I won't say it again because you + don't want me to, but for this once more, thank you, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + As Galusha left her to go to his room, she said: “Now I must go out and + get after Primmie again. I'm scared to death that she'll tell everybody + from here to Provincetown about my bein' worth a million dollars. She + won't make it any LESS than a million, and the chances are it will be + consider'ble more.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Miss Martha, you have already told her not to tell about the money. + I heard you tell her just now when you sent her out of the room.” + </p> + <p> + Martha shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “When you pour water into a sieve,” she said, “it doesn't do much good to + tell the sieve not to leak. Father used to say that some folks' heads were + built so that whatever was poured into their ears ran right out of their + mouths. Primmie's is made that way, I'm afraid. She'll swear she won't + tell, and she won't mean to tell, but... Well, good-night, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <p> + Miss Phipps had prophesied that the cares attending the possession of + wealth might interfere with her sleep that night. Concerning his own + slumbers Galusha made no prophecy, but the said slumbers were broken and + scanty, nevertheless. Martha's happiness, her relief, and the kind things + she had said to him, all these were pleasant to reflect upon and to + remember. Not so pleasant was the thought of the deception he had + practiced. Of course, he had deceived for a good purpose and certainly + with no idea of personal gain, quite the contrary. But he had been + deceitful—and to Martha Phipps, of all people. What would she say if + she ever found it out? He reflected upon the amazing number of—ah—fibs + he had told her, and the question what would she say if she ever learned + of these was even more terrifying in its possibilities. She must not learn + of them, she must never, never know that it was his own money which he had + brought from Boston, that he, and no one else, had bought that stock of + hers. + </p> + <p> + Here he sat up in bed, having suddenly remembered the certificate for two + hundred and fifty shares of Wellmouth Development Company stock which she + had handed him when he started for Boston. He had folded it lengthwise and + crosswise and had put it in his pocket—and had not thought of it + since, until that moment. A cold chill ran down his back. What if— + </p> + <p> + He scrambled out of bed and, the room being distinctly cool, chills + immediately ran up and down other portions of his anatomy. He did not mind + those, however, but finding the matches, lighted the lamp and began pawing + over his garments, those which he had worn upon his Boston pilgrimage. + </p> + <p> + The certificate was not in the coat pocket. Galusha gasped. Had he dropped + it in the train? Or in the office of Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot? Why, if + the last were true, it would be found and traced to him, and Minor and + Barbour and, eventually, Cousin Gussie would learn that he.... + </p> + <p> + Here he remembered that Martha had urged him not to put it in his coat + pocket but in his pocketbook. Oh, joy! He delved for the pocketbook, + opened it—and found no certificate therein. + </p> + <p> + Oh, dear, dear! Oh, dear! Suppose he had not lost it in Boston. Suppose he + had that very evening dropped it in the house here at home, in the sitting + room, or the dining room. Suppose Primmie should find it, or Miss Phipps + herself. Then she would KNOW that he had deceived her—and lied to + her— + </p> + <p> + And then he remembered that, instead of putting the certificate in his + pocketbook, he had found the latter too small for the purpose, and had put + the document in the inside pocket of his waistcoat. And in that waistcoat + pocket he found it. + </p> + <p> + So that was all right, all right so far; but the fact remained that, + instead of the troublesome thing—damning evidence of his guilt and + deception—reposing safely in the vaults of a Boston bank, where he + had intended putting it, it was here, in the house, in the house of Miss + Martha Phipps, who might find it at any time. + </p> + <p> + He tried various hiding places, the drawers of his bureau, the table + drawer, under the straw matting in the corner, but none seemed + satisfactorily secure. Under the matting was, at first thought, ideal, + but, after secreting it there and getting into bed, he remembered that + Martha had declared his room needed new matting and, if ever she could + afford that cost, new matting it should have. Having come into possession + of five thousand dollars, she might feel that she could now afford it. He + climbed, shivering, out of bed again, resurrected the certificate and hid + it under his pillow, an orthodox but safe hiding place for that night + only. The next morning he wrapped it in a summer undergarment and placed + the said garment at the bottom of a pile of similar intimacies in his + bureau drawer. And each night of the following week, before retiring, he + dug it out to make sure of its safety. + </p> + <p> + The day after her boarder's return from Boston, Martha went over to + Wellmouth Centre. The bank there had charge of her account, such as it + was, and she wished to have it take charge of the, to her, huge sum of + real money which Mr. Bangs had brought. She told the cashier that she was + desirous of speaking with him on a matter of business, and he invited her + into his little room at the end of the counter. There she took from her + “Boston bag” a brown paper parcel and, unwrapping the brown paper, + disclosed the five thousand dollars. + </p> + <p> + Cashiers of small town banks know the true financial strength and weakness + of dwellers in those towns, just as the doctors know their physical ones. + Mr. Edgar Thacher, which was the cashier's name in this instance, knew how + much of an estate Cap'n Jim Phipps had left his daughter and how that + estate was divided as to investments. So he was surprised when Martha + revealed the money. + </p> + <p> + “Good land, Martha!” he exclaimed. “What's happened? Haven't gone into the + counterfeiting trade, have you?” + </p> + <p> + Martha smilingly shook her head. “No, Edgar,” she said. “It's too late in + life for me to begin learnin' new trades, I guess. Just count that, will + you, please? I want to make sure it's all there and that I didn't really + have only half of it and dream the rest.” + </p> + <p> + The cashier counted the money. “Five thousand, I make it,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “That's what it ought to be. Now will you put that to my account? I don't + know how long it'll stay there—the whole of it not very long, I'm + afraid—but it will be earnin' a little interest while it does stay.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sure. Well, Martha, it's none of my business, of course, but, as + long as you say you haven't been counterfeiting, I wish you would give me + your receipt for making money. Anybody that can make five thousand in one + lump these hard times is doing well.” + </p> + <p> + Martha shook her head once more. She and the cashier were old friends. “No + receipt to give, Edgar,” she said. “I wish there was; I'd be busy usin' + it, I tell you. I just sold somethin' I owned, that's all, and got a good + deal better price than I ever expected to. In fact, I had about given up + hope of ever gettin' a cent. But there, I mustn't talk so much. You'll + deposit that to my account, won't you, Edgar? And, if you SHOULD see your + way clear to pay seven or eight per cent interest instead of four, or + whatever you do pay, don't bother to write and ask me if I'll take it, + because you'll only be wastin' your time.... Eh? Why, good gracious, + Jethro! What are you doin' over here?” + </p> + <p> + The captain's big frame blocked the doorway of the cashier's office. He + had opened that door without knocking, because it was his habit to open + doors that way. Captain Jethro Hallett's position as keeper of the Gould's + Bluffs light was not an exalted or highly paid one, but his influence in + Wellmouth and its vicinity was considerable, nevertheless. He was + accounted a man of means, he had always been—more especially in the + years before his wife's death and the break in health which followed it—a + person of shrewd business ability and keenness in a trade, and even now, + when some of the townsfolk grinned behind his back and told stories of his + spiritualistic obsessions, they were polite and deferential to his face. + As a matter of fact, it would have been extremely impolitic to be + otherwise than deferential to him. Captain Jeth was quite aware of his + worth and expected deference. + </p> + <p> + He was as surprised to see his neighbor as she was to see him. + </p> + <p> + “Why, hello, Martha!” he grunted. “What fetched you here?” + </p> + <p> + “I asked you first, Cap'n Jeth, but it doesn't make any difference. My + feet brought me as far as the corner and Ras Beebe's grocery cart brought + me the rest of the way. I had planned to come in the train, but Ras saved + me the trouble—AND the fare. He's goin' back in a few minutes, so + I've got to hurry.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! But what did you come here FOR?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I had a little business with Edgar and the bank. Excuse me, Jethro. + Edgar...” + </p> + <p> + She stooped and whispered to the cashier. He nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Martha, of course,” he said. “You've got your book? All right. Back + in a minute, Cap'n.” + </p> + <p> + He picked up the pile of money from the desk, took from Miss Phipps' hand + the pass book she handed him, and together they stepped out into the + public room. Captain Jethro, whose eyes had caught sight of the bills, + leaned forward and peered through the little grating above Mr. Thacher's + desk. He saw the cashier and Martha standing by the teller's window. The + former said something and handed the teller the bank book and the roll of + bills. A moment later the teller, having counted the money and made an + entry in the book, handed the latter back to the lady. + </p> + <p> + “Five thousand,” he said, and his tone was not low. “There you are, Miss + Phipps. Thank you.” + </p> + <p> + When, having escorted the lady to the door, Thacher came back to his + private office, he found the light keeper sitting in the armchair reserved + for customers and pulling thoughtfully at his beard. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Cap'n,” said Mr. Thacher, “what can I do for you?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Jethro crossed his legs. “I come over to cash a couple of checks I + got by mail,” he said. “Had plenty of time so I thought I'd drop in and + see you a minute.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, yes. Glad to see you.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Ain't so glad to see me as you was to see Martha Phipps, I guess + likely. <i>I</i> ain't depositin' any five thousand dollars. 'Twas five + thousand she just deposited, wasn't it?” + </p> + <p> + The cashier was rather annoyed. He did not answer at once. His visitor + repeated the question. + </p> + <p> + “Martha just put five thousand in the bank, didn't she?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why—yes. Did she tell you she was going to?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I heard Eldridge say five thousand when he give her back her bank + book. Five thousand is a lot of money. Where'd she get it from?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, Cap'n, I'm sure. Little more spring-like out to-day, isn't + it?” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Martha been borrerin' from the bank, has she?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't know but she might have mortgaged the Phipps' place. Ain't done + that, you say?” + </p> + <p> + “No. At least, if she has she didn't tell me of it. How are things over at + the lighthouse?” + </p> + <p> + “All right enough. I don't hardly believe she could raise more'n three + thousand on a mortgage, anyhow.... Humph! Five thousand is a sight of + money, too.... Didn't she tell you nothin' about how she got it?” + </p> + <p> + Thacher's annoyance increased. The ordinary caller displaying such + persistent curiosity would have been dismissed unceremoniously; but Jethro + Hallett was not to be dismissed that way. The captain owned stock in the + bank and, before his illness, his name had been seriously considered to + fill the first vacancy in its list of directors. + </p> + <p> + “Must have told you SOMETHIN' about how she got hold of all that money,” + persisted the light keeper. “What did she say to you, anyway, Ed?” + </p> + <p> + “She said—she said—Oh, well, she said she had sold something + she owned and had got the five thousand for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! I want to know! Sold somethin', eh? What was it she sold?” + </p> + <p> + “She didn't say, Cap'n. All she said was that she had sold it and got the + five thousand. Oh, yes, she did say that it was a bigger price than she + ever expected to get and that there was a time when she never expected to + get a cent.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! I want to know! Funny she should sell anything without comin' to + me first. She generally comes to ask my advice about such things.... + Humph!... She didn't sell the house? No, I'd a-known if she had done that. + And what else.... Humph!...” + </p> + <p> + He pulled at his beard in silence for a moment. The teller, a brisk young + man, possessed of a profound love of mischief and a corresponding lack of + reverence, entered the office. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, excuse me,” he said. “I thought you was alone, Mr. Thacher.” Then, + with a wink at his superior over the light keeper's tousled gray head, he + observed, “Well, Cap'n Jeth, what's this I hear about Marietta Hoag? They + tell me she's left the Spiritualists and gone over to Holiness chapel. Is + it so?” + </p> + <p> + Jethro came out of his reverie. His deep-set eyes flashed and his big fist + pounded the office table. No, it was not so. It was a lie. Who said it? + Who was responsible for starting such sacrilegious, outrageous yarns? + Marietta Hoag was a woman called and chosen to receive and give out + revelations from on high. The Holiness crowd was a crew of + good-for-nothin', hollerin' hard-shells. By the everlastin'— + </p> + <p> + He blew out of the office and out of the bank, rumbling and spitting fire + like a volcano. The teller and the cashier watched him go. Then the former + said: + </p> + <p> + “That's the way to get rid of him, Mr. Thacher. He'll set 'round and talk + you to death if you give him half a chance. When you want him to go, tell + him somebody at the other end of the town has been running down the + Spiritualists. He'll be so anxious to get there and heave 'em overboard + that he'll forget to stop and finish what he was saying here.” + </p> + <p> + Which may or may not have been true, but the fact remains that the light + keeper did not entirely forget what he and the cashier said concerning + Martha Phipps' surprising bank deposit. And the next morning, as Martha + was walking up the lane from the village, where she had been on a + supply-purchasing excursion, she heard heavy footsteps and, turning, saw + her neighbor tramping toward her, his massive figure rolling, as it always + did when in motion, from side to side like a ship in a seaway. + </p> + <p> + “Why, hello, Jethro!” she exclaimed. Captain Jethro merely nodded. His + first remark was a question, and very much to the point. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Martha,” he demanded. “Have you sold that Development stock of + yours?” + </p> + <p> + Martha stared at him. For a moment she was inclined to believe in the + truth of the light keeper's “spirit revelations.” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, Jethro!” she gasped. The captain, gazing at her keenly + beneath his shaggy brows, seemed to find his answer in her face. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he observed. “You have sold it, ain't you? Well, by the + everlastin'!” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, Jethro! What are you talkin' about?” + </p> + <p> + “About that two hundred and fifty shares of Wellmouth Development of + yours. You've sold it, ain't you, Martha? And you must have got par for + it, too. Did the Trumet Trust Company folks buy it?” + </p> + <p> + But Miss Phipps was recovering from her surprise. She waited a moment + before replying and, when she did reply, her tone was as crisp, if not as + domineering, as her interrogator's. + </p> + <p> + “See here, Jethro,” she said; “you're takin' a good many things for + granted, aren't you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't cal'late I am. I know you've sold somethin' and got five + thousand dollars for it. I see you deposit the five thousand, myself, and + Ed Thacher told me, after I pumped it out of him, that you said you'd sold + somethin' you owned and got a good price when you didn't know as you'd + ever get a cent. Now, you ain't sold your place because I'd know if you + had, and it ain't worth five thousand, anyway. The other stocks and bonds + you've got ain't—” + </p> + <p> + But Martha interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “Jethro,” she said, sharply, “I just said that you were takin' a good many + things for granted. You are. One of 'em is that you can talk to me as if I + was Zach Bloomer or a fo'masthand on your old schooner. I'm neither of + those and I don't care to be talked to in that way. Another is that what I + chose to do with my property is your business. It isn't, it's mine. I may + have sold that stock or any other, or the house or the barn or the cat, as + far as that goes, but if I have or haven't it is my affair. And I think + you'd better understand that before we talk any more.” + </p> + <p> + She turned and walked on again. Captain Jethro's eyes flashed. It had been + some time since any one had addressed him in that manner. However, women + were women and business was business, and the captain was just then too + intent upon the latter to permit the whims of the former to interfere. He + swallowed his temper and strode after his neighbor. + </p> + <p> + “Martha,” he said, complainingly, “I don't see as you've got any call to + talk to me that way. I've been a pretty good friend to you, seems to me, + and I was your father's friend, his chum, as you might say. Seems as if I + had—well, a right to be interested in—in what you do.” + </p> + <p> + Martha paused. After all, there was truth in what he said. He had been her + father's close friend, and, no doubt, he meant to be hers. And he was + Lulie's father, and not well, not quite his old self mentally or + physically. Perhaps she should make allowances. + </p> + <p> + “Well, all right, Cap'n Jeth,” she said. “It wasn't what you said so much + as it was how you said it. Now will you tell me why you're so dreadfully + anxious to know how I got that five thousand dollars I deposited over to + the bank yesterday?” + </p> + <p> + The light keeper pulled at his beard; the latter was so thick as to make a + handful, even for one of his hands. “Well,” he said, somewhat + apologetically, “you see, Martha, it's like this: IF you sold them + Development shares of yours—and I swan I can't think of anything + else you own that would sell for just that money—IF you sold 'em, I + say, I'd like to know how you done it. I've got four hundred shares of + that stock I'd like to sell fust-rate—fust-rate I would.” + </p> + <p> + She had not entirely forgiven him for his intrusion in her affairs and his + manner of the moment before. She could not resist giving him a dig. + </p> + <p> + “Cap'n Jeth,” she said, “I don't see why you need to worry. I've heard you + say a good many times that you had promises from—well, from the + spirits that you were goin' to sell your Development stock and at a + profit. All you had to do, you said, was wait. Now, you see, <i>I</i> + couldn't wait.” + </p> + <p> + The captain nodded in satisfaction. “So 'TWAS the Development you sold,” + he growled. “I figgered out it couldn't be nothin' else.” + </p> + <p> + Martha scarcely knew whether to frown or laugh. Some of her pity + concerning the old man's mental state had been, obviously, unnecessary. He + was still sharp enough in business matters. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she said, with both laugh and frown, “suppose it was, what of it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, just this, Martha: If there's anything goin' on on the inside of the + Development Company I want to know it.” + </p> + <p> + “There isn't anything goin' on so far as I know.” + </p> + <p> + “Then who bought your stock? The Denboro Trust Company folks?” + </p> + <p> + “No. They don't know a thing about it.” + </p> + <p> + “'Twan't that blasted Pulcifer?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I should hope not. Now don't ask any more, because I sha'n't tell + you. It's a secret, that's all, and it's got to stay that way.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her. She returned his look and nodded. She meant what she + said and he reluctantly recognized the fact. + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Well, all right, Martha,” he growled. “But—but will you do + this much for me? Will you ask these folks—whoever 'twas bought your + two hundred and fifty—if they don't want my four hundred? If they're + really buyin', I shouldn't be surprised if they would want it. If they + bought it just as a favor to you, and are goin' to hang on and wait—why—why + then, maybe they'd do a favor to a friend of yours and your father's afore + you. Maybe they will, you can't tell. And you can tell 'em I've had word + from—from over yonder that it's all goin' to turn out right. You ask + 'em if they don't want to buy my stock, will you, Martha?” + </p> + <p> + Martha took time for reflection. Then she said: “Cap'n Jeth, if I do ask + 'em that, will you promise not to tell a soul a word about my sellin' my + stock, or about the money, or anything of the kind? Will you promise + that?” + </p> + <p> + The light keeper nodded. “Sartin sure,” he said. “I'll promise you, + Martha.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, I'll ask, but you mustn't count on anything comin' from it.” + </p> + <p> + The captain's brows drew together. “What I count on,” he said, solemnly, + “is a higher promise than yours or mine, Martha Phipps. What we do down + here will only be what them up aloft want us to do. Don't you forget + that.” + </p> + <p> + They parted at the Phipps' gate. Captain Jethro walked moodily home. Lulie + met him at the door. She was wearing her hat and coat. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going up to the village, father,” she said. “I have some errands to + do. I'll be back pretty soon.” + </p> + <p> + Her father watched her as she walked away. The thought crossed his mind + that possibly Nelson Howard might be visiting the village that forenoon. + He called her name, and she turned and came back. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, father?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Jethro hesitated. He passed a hand across his forehead. His head felt + tired. Somehow he didn't want to talk any more. Even as important a topic + as Nelson Howard did not arouse his interest. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothin', nothin',” he assured. “Cal'late maybe I'll lay down and turn + in a little spell afore dinner. Is Zach on deck?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he is out in the kitchen, or was a minute ago. Primmie was over on + an errand and I heard their tongues going. Shall I speak to Zach, father?” + </p> + <p> + He told her no, and went into the house. There was a couch in the dining + room and he stretched himself upon it. The head of the couch was near the + door leading to the kitchen. That door was closed, but from behind it + sounded voices, voices which were audible and distinct. A dispute seemed + to be in progress between Mr. Bloomer and Miss Cash and, although Zacheus + continued to grumble on in an even key, Primmie's tone became higher and + shriller with each retort. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you 'tis so, Zach Bloomer.... Well, maybe 'twan't a hundred and + fifty thousand, but I bet you 'twas more money than you ever see in YOUR + life. So now!” + </p> + <p> + The assistant light keeper was heard to cough. Primmie seemed to discern a + hint of skepticism even in the cough. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you can set there and keep on turnin' up your nose and—and + coughin',” she declared, “but—” + </p> + <p> + Zacheus interrupted to say that he hardly ever turned up his nose when he + coughed. + </p> + <p> + “Seems to come handier to turn it down, Posy,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, be still, foolish! Well, anyhow, it's true, every word of it. I see + more money at one time and in one—er—er junk, as you might + say, than ever I see afore—yes, or I bet you ever see neither, Zach + Bloomer.” + </p> + <p> + “We-ll, course what I ever see never amounted to much, but if it's more + than YOU see, Rosebud, then it must have been consider'ble of a lot. Over + in them Mashpaug woods, where you hail from, money kind of grows on the + bushes, like huckleberries, I presume likely. Martha Phipps been over + there berryin', has she?” + </p> + <p> + “No, she ain't. Besides, I never said Miss Martha brought the money into + the house. All's I said was that 'twas in there and I see it with my own + eyes.” + </p> + <p> + “Sho! With your own eyes, eh? Well, well! What do you cal'late 'twould + have looked like if you'd borrered somebody else's eyes? Say, Posy, was it + you fetched the billion and a half, or whatever 'twas, into the house?” + </p> + <p> + “Me? ME with all that money? My savin' soul!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, who did fetch it? Santy Claus?” + </p> + <p> + “I sha'n't tell you. I promised Miss Martha I wouldn't tell one word about + that money and I ain't goin' to.” + </p> + <p> + “Hooray, Posy! That's the way to talk! Well, now, be honest about it: What + did you have for supper night afore last? Mince pie, was it? Why didn't + you eat another slice? Then you'd have dreamed about a mackerel keg full + of di'monds, most likely.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Jethro, trying to fall asleep on the couch in the dining room, + turned over in disgust and raised himself upon an elbow preparatory to + shouting an order for silence. But Primmie's next speech caught his + attention and the order was not given. + </p> + <p> + “Dreamed!” retorted the indignant young woman. “Are you tryin' to tell me + I only dreamed about that money, Zacheus Bloomer? Huh! My Lord of Isrul! + If you'd seen that great big piled-up heap of bills layin' right there on + the table in our settin' room where Mr. Bangs put 'em, I guess you'd have + said 'dreams' and more, too. Ten dollar bills there was and twenties and—and + thirties and forties, for all I know.” + </p> + <p> + “That so? Right where Mr. Bangs put 'em, eh? Now I KNOW you was dreamin', + Pansy Blossom. That little dried-up Bangs man ain't worth more'n ten + cents, if that.” + </p> + <p> + “He ain't? How do you know he ain't?” + </p> + <p> + “Same as I know when that Lucy Larcom tomcat of Martha's has been in a + fight, by the looks of him. Look at the Bangs man's clothes, and—and + his hat—and—why, Godfreys mighty, he can't afford to get his + hair cut oftener than once in three months! Anyhow, he don't. And you + stand there and tell me he come cruisin' in t'other night and commenced + sheddin' million dollar bills all over the furniture. Where'd he get 'em + to? Dig 'em up over in the Baptist graveyard?” + </p> + <p> + “No, he never. He got 'em up to Boston. Leastways, I guess he did, 'cause + that's where he went. And, besides, what do you know about how much he's + worth? He may look kind of—of ratty, but all the same he's got rich + relations. Why, one of his relations is head of the biggest broke—I + mean, brokin' and bank place there is in Boston. Cabot, Bancroft and—and + Thingumbob is the name of it. And Miss Martha told me 'twas—” + </p> + <p> + There was much more of this and the listener on the dining room couch + heard it all. He remained on that couch until Miss Cash, at the back door + of the kitchen, delivered her triumphant farewell. + </p> + <p> + “So there now, Zach Bloomer,” she said, “I guess you believe now I didn't + dream it. And you needn't ask any more questions because I sha'n't tell + you a single word. I promised Miss Martha I wouldn't never tell and I'm + goin' to keep my promise.” + </p> + <p> + That evening Martha approached her lodger on the subject of the + possibility of selling the light keeper's Development holdings for him. To + say the least, she received no encouragement. Galusha was quite emphatic + in his expression of disbelief in that possibility. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear me, no, Miss Martha,” he stammered. “I—ah—I feel + quite sure it would be unwise to—ah—attempt such a thing. You + see—ah—you see—my cousin is—is—” + </p> + <p> + “I know, he's sick, poor man, and shouldn't be disturbed. You're right, of + course, Mr. Bangs. It was only that Cap'n Jeth had always been a good + friend of father's and mine and I thought if Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot + really were buyin' the stock perhaps they might like to buy his. But I can + see why you wouldn't want to trouble Mr. Cabot again just now. I'm sorry I + mentioned it to you; I'm afraid I have made you nervous.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha was nervous, certainly, and showed it. He protested, however, that + he was quite all right really, and, as his landlady did not mention the + subject again, he recovered a portion of his equilibrium. And during the + following week he gradually gained more and more confidence. The telltale + certificate hidden in his bureau drawer was, of course, a drawback to his + peace of mind, and the recollection of his recent outbreak of + prevarication and deception was always a weight upon his conscience. But, + to offset these, there was a changed air about the Phipps' home and its + inmates which was so very gratifying that, if it did not deaden that + conscience, it, at least, administered to it an effective dose of soothing + syrup. + </p> + <p> + Primmie wept no more into the dishwater nor sighed despairingly when + serving breakfast. She sang now and, although an unprejudiced person might + not have found the change an unmixed delight, Galusha did. Miss Phipps + sang, too, occasionally, not with the camp-meeting exuberance of her maid, + but with the cheery hum of the busy bee. She was happy; she said so and + looked so, and, in spite of his guilty knowledge of the deceit upon which + that happiness was founded, her lodger was happy because she was. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” he observed, on Saturday morning of that week, as, coated + and capped for his daily walk, he stood by the door of the dining room, + “it's quite extraordinary, really. I have been thinking, you know, and it + really is quite extraordinary.” + </p> + <p> + Martha was sitting in the rocker by the window, the morning sunshine + streaming in through the leaves and blossoms of the potted plants on the + brackets dappling her hair and cheek with cheery splashes of light and + shade. She was consulting the pages of her cookbook, as a preliminary to + preparing a special dessert for Sunday's dinner, and was humming as she + did so. + </p> + <p> + She looked up when he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “What is extraordinary?” she asked. “Your thinkin', do you mean? I don't + see anything very extraordinary about that. You're thinkin' most of the + time, seems to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't mean that. I meant what I was thinking was extraordinary. Or + not precisely that, either. I—ah—I mean—well, you see, + when I was in Washington—at the Institute, you know—it used to + annoy me—ah—extremely, to have any one sing or whistle in my + vicinity. Really, it did. I sometimes spoke very sharply—ah—irritably + to any one who did that. And now, as I stood here and heard you singing, + Miss Martha, it suddenly came over me that I do not mind it at all. I—ah—actually + like to hear you. I do, very much, indeed. Now, isn't that extraordinary!” + </p> + <p> + Martha laughed aloud. “Why, yes,” she declared; “I think it is. Anybody + likin' to hear me sing is about as extraordinary as anything that ever + was, I guess. Mr. Bangs, you're awfully funny.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha nodded. “Yes,” he said, “I am sure I must be. I think if I were + any one else I should laugh at myself a great deal. I mean—ah—I + mean in that case I should laugh, not at myself, but at me. Good gracious, + I haven't made that very clear, have I?” + </p> + <p> + His smile was so contagious that she laughed again. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't mean you were funny to laugh at, but to laugh with,” she said. + “You're goin' to have an especially nice walk this mornin'. It's such a + lovely forenoon I almost wish I was goin' with you.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha beamed. “Why—why, so do I!” he exclaimed, in delighted + surprise. “Yes, I do, I do, indeed! Ah—ah—why don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Mercy me, I couldn't think of it! I must stay here and get to cookin' or + we'll have no puddin' to-morrow noon. I'll be with you in spirit, as the + books say; how will that do?” + </p> + <p> + Whether or not she was with him in spirit, she was very much in her + lodger's thoughts as he walked down the path to the gate. It was such a + beautiful forenoon, with the first promise of spring in the air, that, + instead of starting toward the village, as was his usual custom, he turned + in the other direction and strolled toward the lighthouse. The sea view + from the cliff edge should be magnificent on a morning like this. + </p> + <p> + But it was not of the view, or the beauty of the morning, that he thought + as he wandered slowly on. His mind, for some reason or other, seemed to be + filled with the picture of Martha Phipps as she sat in the rocking-chair, + with the background of old-fashioned plants and blossoms, and the morning + sunshine illumining her pleasant, comely face. He could visualize every + feature of that face, which fact was extremely odd, for it had been many + years since he had noticed a female face sufficiently for that face to + impress itself upon his memory. Years and years before Galusha Bangs had + been forced to the conclusion that the interest of attractive feminity was + not for him and he had accepted the inevitable and never permitted his own + interest to stray in that direction. A few feminine faces he could, of + course, recall; the face of his Aunt Clarissa, for instance, and—dear + me, yes! that of the pestiferous Mrs. Worth Buckley, his—ah—not + his “old man of the sea” exactly, but his equally troublesome, middle-aged + woman of the mountains. Mrs. Buckley had not attracted his notice, she had + seized it, served a subpoena upon it, and his provokingly contrary memory + persisted in recalling her face, probably because he so earnestly desired + to forget it. + </p> + <p> + But he found a real pleasure in visualizing the face of Miss Martha + Phipps. Her eyes now—her eyes were—ah—um—they were + blue; no, they were gray—or a sort of gray-blue, perhaps, or even a + shade of brown. But the precise color made no real difference. It was the + way they looked at one, and—ah—smiled, so to speak. Odd, + because he had never before realized that one could—ah—smile + with one's eyes. Attractive, too, that smile of hers, the eyes and the + lips in combination. A sort of cheerful, comfortable smile—yes, and—ah—attractive—ah—inviting, + as one might say; a homelike smile; that was the word he wanted—“homelike.” + It had been a long, long time since he had had a home. As a matter of + fact, he had not cared to have one. A tent in Egypt or Syria, furnished + with a mummy or two, and with a few neighborly ruins next door—this + had been his idea of comfort. It was his idea still, but nevertheless— + </p> + <p> + And then he became aware that from somewhere, apparently from the heavens + above, a voice was shouting—yes, roaring—his name. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bangs!... Hi-i, Mr. Bangs!” + </p> + <p> + Galusha came out of his walking dream, stared about him, found that he had + walked almost to the fence surrounding the light keeper's home and would + have collided with that fence in another stride or two, looked around, + down, and finally up—to see Captain Jethro leaning over the iron + rail surrounding the lantern room at the top of the lighthouse. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Why—ah—good gracious!” he exclaimed. “Were you calling + me, Captain Hallett?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Jethro shook his big head. “Callin'!” he repeated. “I've been + bellerin' like the foghorn for five minutes. A little more of it and I'd + have run out of steam or bust a b'iler, one or t'other. Ain't been struck + deef, have you, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + “No—ah—no, I trust not. I was—ah—thinking, I + presume, and I did not hear you. I'm very sorry.” + </p> + <p> + “That's all right. Glad you was only thinkin' and no worse. I didn't know + but you'd been struck by walkin' paralysis or somethin'. Say,” he leaned + further over the rail and lowered his voice. “Say,” he said again, “would + you mind comin' up here a minute? I want to talk to you.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs did not mind and, entering the round tower, he climbed the + spiral stair to the little room at the top. The great lantern, with its + glittering facets and lenses filled that room almost entirely, and the + light keeper's great form filled it still more. There was scarcely space + for little Galusha to squeeze in. + </p> + <p> + Jethro explained that he had been cleaning the lantern. “It's Zacheus' job + really,” he observed, “but I have to do it myself once in a while to keep + it shipshape. Say,” he added, opening the door which led to the balcony, + “look out yonder. Worth lookin' at, ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + It was. The morning was dry and clear, a brisk wind from the west, and not + a cloud. The lighthouse, built as it was upon the knoll at the edge of the + bluff, seemed to be vastly higher than it actually was, and to tower far + above all else until the view from its top was almost like that from an + aeroplane. The horizon swept clear and unbroken for three quarters of a + circle, two of those quarters the sharp blue rim of the ocean meeting the + sky. The white wave-crests leaped and twinkled and danced for miles and + miles. Far below on the yellow sand of the beach, the advancing and + retreating breakers embroidered lacy patterns which changed constantly. + </p> + <p> + “Worth looking at, ain't it?” repeated the captain. + </p> + <p> + Galusha nodded. “Indeed it is,” he said, with emphasis. Yet it surprised + him slightly to find the gruff old light keeper enthusiastic concerning a + scene which must be so very much a matter of course to him. + </p> + <p> + “The Almighty done a good job when He built that,” observed Captain + Jethro, waving his hand toward the Atlantic. “Don't never get tired of + lookin' at salt water, I don't, and yet I've been in it or on it or around + it pretty much all my life. And now I'm up above it,” he added, + thoughtfully. “We're pretty high up where we are now, Mr. Bangs. I like to + set up here and—er—well, kind of think about things, + sometimes.... Humph!... Do you cal'late we're any nigher when we're up + aloft here than we are down on the ground yonder; nigher to THEM, I mean?” + </p> + <p> + His visitor was puzzled. “I—I beg your pardon?” he stammered. + “Nigher—ah—nearer to—ah—what?” + </p> + <p> + “Nigher to them—them that's gone afore. Seems sometimes, when I'm + alone up here, particular of a foggy day, as if I was consider'ble nigher + to them—to HER, especial—than when I'm on the ground. Think + there's anything in it, do you?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha said he didn't know; we know so little about such things, really. + He wondered what the captain had invited him up there to talk about. Some + spiritualistic subject, very likely; the conversation seemed to be tending + that way. Jethro appeared to have forgotten altogether the seance and his, + Galusha's, assumption of the character of the small, dark “evil + influence.” It looked very much as if that assumption—so far as it + entailed the permanent shifting of prejudice from Nelson Howard to himself—had + been effort wasted. + </p> + <p> + Captain Jeth pulled at his beard and seemed to be dreaming. Galusha pitied + the old fanatic as he stood there, massive, rugged, brows drawn together, + sturdy legs apart as if set to meet the roll of a ship at sea—a + strong figure, yet in a way the figure of a wistful, dreaming child, + helpless— + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bangs,” said the light keeper, “don't you cal'late, if you set out + to, you could sell my four hundred Wellmouth Development same as you sold + Martha's two hundred and fifty?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha would have sat down, if there had been anything except the floor + to sit down on. As a matter of fact, even that consideration might not + have prevented his sitting; his knees bent suddenly and he was on his way + to the floor, but his shoulders struck the wall behind him and furnished + the support he so very much needed. So far as speech was concerned, that + was out of the question. His mouth opened and shut, but nothing audible + issued therefrom. Mr. Bangs, at that moment, gave a very good imitation of + a fish unexpectedly jerked out of deep water to dry, very dry land. + </p> + <p> + Captain Jethro did not seem to realize the effect of his question upon his + visitor. His big fist moved downward from his chin to the tip of his + beard, only to rise and take a new hold at the chin again. His gaze was + fixed upon the rolling sea outside. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” he went on, “I kind of figger it out this way: If them folks + who bought Martha's stock are cal'latin' to buy up Development they'll + want more'n two hundred and fifty. I'll sell 'em mine at a reasonable + figger; sha'n't ask much over what I paid for it, I sha'n't. If they ain't + buyin' for anything 'special, but just 'cause they think it's a good thing + to keep—well, then—” + </p> + <p> + Galusha interrupted. The faculty of framing words and uttering them was + returning to him, albeit slowly and jerkily. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, Captain Hallett,” he faltered. “How—how—who—who—” + </p> + <p> + “Martha didn't tell me nothin' except that she had sold her stock,” broke + in the light keeper. “I guessed that, too, afore she told me. She never + mentioned your name, Mr. Bangs, nor where she sold it, nor nothin'. But, + of course, when I found out 'twas you who went to Boston and fetched home + the five thousand dollars I didn't need to be told—much. Now, Mr. + Bangs, I wish you'd see if you can't sell my four hundred shares for me. + It'll be consider'ble of a favor if you will. You see, them shares—” + </p> + <p> + But Galusha did not wait for him to finish. His alarmed protests fairly + tumbled over each other. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, Captain Hallett,” he cried, “really I—I... ah... + What you ask is quite impossible. Oh, very much so—ah—very. + You see... Well, really, I... Captain Hallett, this entire matter was + supposed to be a secret, an absolute secret. I am surprised—and—ah—shocked + to learn—” + </p> + <p> + The captain's big paw was uplifted as a signal. “Sshh! Heave to! Come up + into the wind a minute, Mr. Bangs. 'Tis a secret, fur's I'm consarned, and + 'twill be just the same after I've sold my stock. I realize that business + men don't want business matters talked about, 'tain't likely. All I'd like + to have you do is just see if you can't dispose of that four hundred of + mine, same as you done with Martha's. Just as a favor I'm askin' it.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha shook his head violently. His agitation was as great as ever. + After going through the agony of the frying pan and congratulating himself + that that torment was over, then to find he had escaped merely into the + fire was perfectly maddening—not to say frightening—and—oh, + dear, dear, dear! + </p> + <p> + “Really, I'm very sorry, very,” he reiterated. “But I am QUITE sure I can + do nothing with your shares, Captain Hallett. It—it—such a + thing would be absolutely impossible. I'm sorry.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Jethro's calm was unshaken. “We-ll,” he said, slowly, “I ain't + altogether surprised. Course I could see that maybe you wouldn't want to + go cruisin' up to them folks again, 'specially they bein' relations. I + don't blame you for that, Mr. Bangs. But, in case you did feel that way, + I'd made up my mind I'd go up there myself and see 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Ah—ah—See? See whom?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, them relations of yours. Them Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot folks. I + know OF 'em; everybody that knows anything about bankin' does, of course. + I don't know any of 'em personal, but I cal'lated maybe you'd be willin' + to give me a note, a letter introducin' me, you see. Then I could tell 'em + why I come, and how I wanted to talk with 'em about sellin' some more of + the same stock they sold for you. That would be all right, wouldn't it, + Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha did not answer. The absolute hopelessness of the situation was + beginning to force itself upon his understanding. Whether or not he gave + the letter of introduction, the light keeper would go to Cabot, Bancroft + and Cabot—oh, how on earth did he ever learn that THEY had anything + to do with it?—and begin talkin' about Martha Phipps' stock; and + they would deny knowing anything of it; and then the captain would + persist, giving details; and Barbour and Minor and the rest would guess + the truth and probably write Thomas, who would eventually tell Cousin + Gussie; and the light keeper would return home and tell Martha, and she + would learn that he had lied to her and deceived her— + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do you say, Mr. Bangs?” inquired Captain Jethro. + </p> + <p> + Bangs turned a haggard gaze in the speaker's direction. The latter was + standing in exactly the same attitude, feet apart, hand to beard, sad eyes + gazing out to sea; just as he had stood when Galusha's sympathy had gone + out to him as a “helpless, dreaming child.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you laughin' at?” asked Captain Jeth, switching his gaze from + old ocean to the face of the little archaeologist. + </p> + <p> + Galusha had not laughed, but there was a smile, a wan sort of smile, upon + his face. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing in particular,” he replied. “I was reflecting that it seemed + rather too bad to waste pity in quarters where it was not—ah—needed, + when there was such a pressing demand, as one might say, at home.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <p> + The earnest young man behind the counter in the office of Cabot, Bancroft + and Cabot—the young man who had so definitely classified Galusha + Bangs as a “nut”—was extremely surprised when that individual + reappeared before his window and, producing the very check which he had + obtained there so short a time before, politely requested to exchange it + for eighty-two hundred dollars in cash and another check for the balance. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why—but—!” exclaimed the young man. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. Yes, if—ah—if you will be so good,” said Galusha. + </p> + <p> + The young man himself asked questions, and then called Mr. Minor into + consultation, and Mr. Minor asked more. The answers they received were not + illuminating, but in the end the transaction was made as requested. + </p> + <p> + “But, Bangs,” said Minor, laughing, “what I can't understand is why you + want to bother with the check for eleven hundred and odd—whatever it + is. Why not take the whole amount in cash and be done with it?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha shook his head. “I prefer it the—ah—other way. If you + don't mind,” he added, politely. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we don't mind. But—well, it seems rather funny, that's all. Ha, + ha!” + </p> + <p> + “Does it? Yes, I—ah—dare say it does.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, ha! Yes, rather. Of course, it is your business, you know, but—” + </p> + <p> + He laughed again. The harassed Galusha waited until the laugh was over. + Then he said, gently, “Yes, I was under that impression.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? What impression?” + </p> + <p> + “That it was, as you say, my—ah—business.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Why... Eh? Oh!... Humph!... Why, yes, surely, certainly. Here,” + turning briskly to the clerk, “give Mr. Bangs what he wishes at once.” + </p> + <p> + He walked away, pulling thoughtfully at his mustache. Galusha, rubbing his + chin, looked gravely after him. The clerk began making out the check. This + done and the check entrusted to a messenger to be taken to the private + office for signing, the next business was the counting of the money. + </p> + <p> + “Eighty-two hundred, you said?” asked the clerk. + </p> + <p> + “Eighty-two hundred—ah—yes,” said Galusha. + </p> + <p> + Eight thousand was, of course, the price at par of Jethro Hallett's four + hundred shares of Wellmouth Development stock. The additional two hundred + was a premium paid, so to speak, to the departed spirit of the late Mrs. + Jethro Hallett. She, by or through the Chinese control of Miss Marietta + Hoag, had notified her husband that he was destined to sell his + Development shares at a profit, a small profit perhaps, but a profit, + nevertheless. + </p> + <p> + So, when at that point of their conversation in the lantern room of the + Gould's Bluffs light, Galusha, recognizing his helpless position and the + alternative of buying the Hallett holdings or being exposed to Cousin + Gussie as a sentimental and idiotic spendthrift and to Martha Phipps as a + liar and criminal—when Galusha, facing this alternative, stammered a + willingness to go to Boston and see if he could not dispose of Jethro's + stock as he had Martha's, the captain added an additional clause. + </p> + <p> + “I won't sell for par,” he declared stubbornly. “Julia revealed to me that + I wouldn't, and so I sha'n't. I'll sell for fifty cents a share extry, but + I won't sell for twenty flat. Rather than do that I'll go to them Cabot + folks myself and see if I can't find out who's buyin' and why. Then I'll + go to the real buyers and make the best trade I can with them. If they + really want to get hold of that stock, fifty cents a share won't stand in + their way, I'll bet you.” + </p> + <p> + It did not stand in Galusha's way, either. In his desperate position he + would have paid any amount obtainable rather than have the light keeper go + to Boston on such an errand. + </p> + <p> + Leaving the clerk's window with his pocket bulging with bank notes, Mr. + Bangs proceeded sadly, but with determination, to the private office of + Mr. Barbour, his cousin's “second secretary.” There, producing from + another pocket a huge envelope, portentously daubed and sealed with red + wax, he handed it to Barbour. It contained the two stock certificates, + each signed in blank, Martha's for two hundred and fifty shares, Captain + Jethro's for four hundred. The envelope and the wax he had procured at a + stationer's near the South Station. The obliging salesman had permitted + him to do the sealing on the premises. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Barbour,” he faltered, “I should like to leave this with you, if—if + quite convenient, that is to say.” + </p> + <p> + Barbour turned the big envelope over. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mr. Bangs, surely,” he said, but he looked puzzled. “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha blushed and stammered. “Why—why—” he began; “I—ah—you + see—it is—ah—something of mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Something you wish me to take care of?” asked Barbour, still looking at + the envelope. + </p> + <p> + His caller grasped at the straw. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes, that is it,” he said, eagerly. “Dear me, yes. If you will + be so kind.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed, Mr. Bangs. No trouble at all. I'll put it—” + </p> + <p> + But the little man stopped the sentence in the middle. + </p> + <p> + “If—if you please,” he protested. “Ah—please don't. I don't + wish to know where you put it. Really, I don't, not in the least. I very + much prefer not to know where it is.... Ah—good-day, Mr. Barbour. + Thank you very much.” + </p> + <p> + The general opinion in the office of Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot concerning + the senior partner's queer cousin was strengthened by this visit. The + surmise that Galusha Bangs was a “nut” became a conviction. + </p> + <p> + But, for the “nut” himself, life during the coming weeks and months became + a much less worrisome struggle. Returning to East Wellmouth, for the + second time laden with legal tender, he delivered his burden to Captain + Jethro, who, in return, promised faithfully never to reveal a word + concerning the sale of his Development stock or drop a hint which might + help to locate its purchasers. + </p> + <p> + “Course I won't say nothin',” vowed the captain. “I realize that business + men don't want their business talked about. And if them Cabot, Bancroft + and Cabot folks are tryin' to buy in the stock, whether it's for + themselves or somebody else, they'll want it kept dark. No, I ain't told a + soul on this earth and I WON'T tell one. That is satisfactory, ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + The shadow of a smile passed across Galusha's face. “Quite, quite,” he + replied. “Nothing could be more so unless—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, unless what?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing, nothing. Thank you—ah—thank you very much.” + </p> + <p> + It had occurred to him that, considering the light keeper's peculiarities, + the promise not to tell a soul on earth might be stretched to include + those elsewhere; but he kept the thought to himself. Captain Jethro did + not press his question. The shrewd old captain was so thoroughly delighted + at having sold, and at the prophesied profit, his troublesome holdings in + the Wellmouth Development Company, that his mood was neither combative nor + inquisitive. + </p> + <p> + Galusha did not tell Miss Phipps of his business deal with the light + keeper. In the first place, his telling her would involve more deception + and, also, might lead to more possibilities of discovery. The average, + well-meaning person, having been driven by relentless fate to the + committing of murder, could scarcely have felt more conscience-stricken + and depraved than did little Galusha Bangs at having lied to Martha + Phipps. Of course, the lies and deceit had resulted in a distinct benefit + to her and had been perpetrated solely with that idea, but this fact he + ignored entirely. And no murderer could have been more anxious to hide his + guilty secret than was he. So, for the first few days after his return + with the light keeper's money, he was inclined to be thoughtful and + nervous, to fall into troubled trances at table or in the middle of a + conversation, and to start rather violently when aroused from those + trances. Primmie was disposed to attribute these lapses to disease. She + confided her fears to her employer. + </p> + <p> + “You know what I think 'tis makes him act so, Miss Martha?” she asked, on + one occasion. + </p> + <p> + “Makes who act how?” + </p> + <p> + “Makes Mr. Bangs set there and go moonin' off and not pay no attention and + then jump when you wake him up as if you'd stuck a pin in him. You know + what I think 'tis? I think maybe it's dropsy.” + </p> + <p> + “WHAT?” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. I had a great-aunt once; had a slew of 'em, fur's that goes, + 'cause my grandmother on the starboard side—” + </p> + <p> + “WHAT side?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh! Oh, that's what pa used to call his side of the family, the starboard + side. All ma's folks was port side, 'cordin' to his tell. He'd worked + aboard vessels, pa had; that is, as much as he ever worked anywheres. + Well, anyhow, his grandmother she had eight sisters and three brothers, so + I had great-aunts thicker'n miskeeters in a swamp hole—my savin' + soul, yes! Well, anyhow, one of 'em, Aunt Lucifer 'twas—” + </p> + <p> + “PRIMMIE! WHAT was her name?” + </p> + <p> + “Lucifer. Ma and us children always called her Aunt Lucy, though; she + liked it better.” + </p> + <p> + “Heavens and earth! I should think she might. WHAT possessed anybody to + name a child Lucifer? And a girl-child at that!” + </p> + <p> + “Does sound kind of funny, don't it? Folks 'most always used to laugh when + they heard what her name was. That is, fust along they did; but they never + laughed but once when she was around. Talk about makin' anybody mad! And + temper—my Lord of Isrul! Why, if they laughed at her name she was + li'ble to grab hold of the fust thing come to hand, flatiron or frying pan + or chunk of stove wood or anything, and let 'em have it + rattlety-bang-jing. <i>I</i> never seen her do it, of course—all + that was afore MY time—but pa used to say it never made no + difference whether 'twas the man come tryin' to collect the store bill or + the minister or anybody, she'd up and flatten him just the same. Course pa + said 'twas a whole lot more li'ble to be the bill man than the minister + 'cause there was precious few ministers ever—” + </p> + <p> + “There, there, Primmie! I can't stop to listen any longer, I'm busy. But + do tell me why they named the poor thing Lucifer? How did they ever hear + the name, anyway; way over in those Mashpaug woods?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, there was a story about that, kind of a pretty story 'twas, too. + 'Cordin' to pa's tell, the fust time Aunt Lucy's ma—my great + grandmother, and the land knows what HER name was, <i>I</i> don't—the + fust time she went out after the baby was born she went to camp meetin'. + And one of the ministers there he talked some consider'ble about a critter + name of Lucifer that was a fallen-down angel, whatever that is. Well, my + great-grandmother she didn't understand much about what he was talkin' + about—I cal'late none of 'em did fur's that goes, and no wonder—but + the name of Lucifer sort of stuck in her head 'cause she thought 'twas + kind of pretty. And when she got back home they told her the baby had + fetched loose from the bed where it had been asleep and fell onto the + floor and pretty nigh busted itself in two. And it never hardly cried at + all—was a reg'lar angel they said—and that made her think + about the fallen-down angel she'd just heard tell of to camp meetin' and + its name was Lucifer. And they hadn't named the baby yet, so—” + </p> + <p> + “I see. Ha, ha! Primmie, you are—well, there aren't many like you, + I'm sure. Now I must go. Well, what is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothin', only I ain't told you why I think Mr. Bangs may be comin' + down with dropsy. You see, Aunt Lucy—this Lucifer one I've been + tellin' you about—she had it. I only remember her 'long towards her + last. She wan't heavin' any teakittles at folks then; my savin' soul, no! + She used to set in a big rockin'-chair over by the stove and was all + puffed-up like—like a featherbed, you might say; and she'd kind of + doze along and doze along and you could holler your head off and she + wouldn't pay no attention, and then she'd kind of wake up, as you might + say, and sing out, 'Hey? What say?' just like Mr. Bangs, for all the + world. And 'twas dropsy she had, so now you see, don't you, Miss Martha?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, Primmie, I see. Tut, tut, tut! You certainly have a great + imagination, of its kind. I shouldn't worry about Mr. Bangs' disease, if I + were you. The poor man isn't really strong yet and he has been runnin' + back and forth to Boston lately altogether too much for his own good. He + is tired and his nerves are tired, too; so we must make it as easy as we + can for him, Primmie, you and I.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm. He's a good man, ain't he?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed he is!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm. Even if he is so kind of—of funny.” + </p> + <p> + Often, in earlier conversations with her housemaid, Miss Phipps had agreed + that her lodger was, to say the least, “funny”; but now she seemed to + resent the word. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” she observed, crisply, “if he is, I presume likely he has the + right to be. And I know this, if there were more 'funny' people like him + in this world it would be a big improvement. Primmie, go and do your + sweepin'.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <p> + With the end of the following week spring came in earnest to Gould's + Bluffs, not yet as a steady boarder—spring in New England is a young + lady far too fickle for that—but to make the first of her series of + ever-lengthening visits. Galusha found her, indeed, a charming young + person. His walks now were no longer between snowdrifts or over frozen + fields and hills. Those hills and fields were still bare and brown, of + course, but here and there, in sheltered hollows, tiny bits of new green + began to show. In April, by disturbing the layers of dead leaves and + sodden vegetation through which these hints of greenness peeped, one was + likely to come upon fragrant treasures, the pink and white blossoms of the + trailing arbutus. + </p> + <p> + There was a superfluity of mud, of course, and as Miss Phipps often + informed him, Galusha's boots and lower trouser legs were “sights to see” + when he came back from those walks. He expressed contrition and always + proclaimed that he should be much more careful in future—much more, + yes. But he was not, nor did he care greatly. He was feeling quite well + again, better than he had felt for years, and spring was in his + middle-aged blood and was rejuvenating him, just as it was rejuvenating + the world and its creatures about him, including Lucy Larcom, Martha's + ancient and rheumatic Thomas cat. Lucy—an animal as misnamed as + Primmie's “Aunt Lucifer”—instead of slumbering peacefully and + respectably in his cushioned box in the kitchen, which had been his custom + of winter nights, now refused to come in at bedtime, ignored his mistress' + calls altogether, and came rolling home in the morning with slit ears and + scarred hide and an air of unrepentant and dissipated abandon. + </p> + <p> + Galusha, inspecting the prodigal's return one morning, observed: “Luce, + when I first met you, you reminded me strongly of my Aunt Clarissa. The + air of—ah—dignity and respectable disapproval with which you + looked me over was much like hers. But now—now, if you wore a hat on + one side and an—ah—exuberant waistcoat, you would remind me + more of Mr. Pulcifer.” + </p> + <p> + With April came the fogs, and the great foghorn bellowed and howled night + after night. Galusha soon learned to sleep through the racket. It was + astonishing, his capacity for sleep and his capability in sleeping up to + capacity. His appetite, too, was equally capable. He was, in fact, feeling + so very well that his conscience began troubling him concerning his duty + to the Institute. He wrote to the directors of that establishment + suggesting that, as his health was so greatly improved, perhaps he had + better return to his desk. The reply was prompt. The directors were, so + the letter said, much pleased to hear of his improved health, but they + wished him to insure the permanence of that improvement by remaining away + for another six months at least. “We have,” the writer added, “a plan, not + yet definite and complete, although approaching that condition, which will + call for your knowledge and experienced guidance. Our plan will probably + materialize in the fall or winter. I can say no more concerning it now, + except to add that we feel sure that it will be acceptable to you and that + you should take every precaution to gain strength and health as a + preparatory measure.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha could not guess what the plan might be, but he was a bit surprised + to find himself so willing to agree to the directors' mandate that he + remain in East Wellmouth for the present. His beloved desk in his beloved + study there in Washington had been torn from him, or rather he had been + torn from it, and for a time it had really seemed as if the pangs of + severance might prove fatal. By all that was fit and proper he should + fiercely resent the order to remain away for another six months. But he + did not resent it fiercely; did not resent it at all; in fact, to be quite + honest, he welcomed it. He was inwardly delighted to be ordered to remain + in East Wellmouth. Such a state of mind was surprising, quite + nonunderstandable. + </p> + <p> + And, day by day and week by week, the fear that his guilty secret + concerning the Wellmouth Development stock might be discovered became less + and less acute. Captain Jethro never mentioned it; Martha Phipps, when she + found that he preferred not to discuss it, kept quiet, also. Perhaps, + after all, no one would ever know anything about it. And the change in + Martha's spirits was glorious to see. + </p> + <p> + He and Lulie Hallett had many quiet talks together. Ever since the evening + of the seance when, partially by craft and partially by luck, he had + prevented her father's discovering young Howard's presence in the house, + she had unreservedly given him her friendship. And this gift Galusha + appreciated. He had liked her when they first met and the liking had + increased. She was a sensible, quiet, unaffected country girl. She was + also an extremely pretty girl, and when a very pretty girl—and + sensible and unaffected and the rest—makes you her confidant and + asks your advice concerning her love affair and her heart's most precious + secrets, even a middle-aged “mummy duster,” whose interest in the female + sex has, until very recently, centered upon specimens of that sex who have + been embalmed several thousand years—even such a one cannot help + being gratified by the subtle flattery. + </p> + <p> + So when Lulie asked his advice Galusha gave it, such as he happened to + have in stock, whole-heartedly and without reserve. He and she had many + chats and the subjects of these chats were almost invariably two—her + father and Nelson Howard. How could she reconcile the one with and to the + other? Mr. Bangs' council was, of course, to wait and hope, but a council + of procrastination is, to say the most, but partially satisfying. + </p> + <p> + One afternoon, in the middle of May, he met her on the way back from the + village and, as they walked on together, he asked her if there were any + new developments in the situation. She looked troubled. + </p> + <p> + “I don't exactly know what you mean by developments,” she said. “If you + mean that father is any more reconciled to Nelson, he isn't, that's all. + On any other subject he is as nice as he can be. If I wanted anything in + the world, and he had money enough to buy it, I do believe I could have it + just for the asking. That is a good deal to say,” she added, with a half + smile, “considering how fond father is of money, but honestly, Mr. Bangs, + I think it's true.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha declared that he had no doubt of its truth, indeed, no. + </p> + <p> + “But, you see,” continued Lulie, “the one thing I do want—which is + for father to like Nelson—can't be bought with money. I try to talk + with him, and argue with him; sometimes when he is especially good-natured + and has been especially nice to me, I try to coax him, but it always ends + in one way; he gets cross and won't listen. 'Don't talk to me about that + Howard swab, I won't hear it.' That's what he always says. He always calls + Nelson a 'swab.' Oh, dear! I'm so tired of it all.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—ah—yes, I'm sure you must be. Ah—um—swab? + Swab? It doesn't sound agreeable. What is a—ah—swab, may I + ask?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I believe it's a kind of mop that the sailors use aboard ship to + clean decks with. I believe that is what it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed? Yes, yes, of course. Now that is quite interesting, isn't it? A + mop—yes. But really, I don't see why Mr. Howard should be called a—ah—mop. + There is nothing about him which suggests a mop to me. Now in my case—why, + this very morning Miss Mar—Miss Phipps suggested that my hair needed + cutting very badly. I hadn't noticed it, myself, but when she called my + attention I looked in the mirror and—ah—really, I was quite a + sight. Ah—shaggy, you know, like a—like a yak.” + </p> + <p> + “A what?” + </p> + <p> + “A yak. The—ah—Tibetan animal. I spent a season in Tibet a + number of years ago and they use them there for beasts of burden. They + have a great deal of hair, you know, and so did I—ah—this + morning. Dear me, yes; I was quite yaklike.” + </p> + <p> + Lulie turned an amused glance at him. “So Martha tells you when—” + she began, and then stopped, having spoken without thinking. But her + companion was not offended. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, yes,” he said cheerfully. “She tells me many things for my own + good. She quite manages me. It is extremely good of her, for goodness + knows I need it. Dear me, yes!” He thoughtfully rubbed his shorn neck and + added, “I told that barber that my hair needed cutting badly. I—ah—fear + that is the way he cut it.... I read that joke in the paper, Miss Lulie; + it isn't original, really.” + </p> + <p> + He smiled and she burst out laughing. But she did not laugh long. When she + next spoke she was serious enough. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bangs,” she said, “you don't think it dishonorable, or mean to + father, for me to keep on seeing Nelson, do you? Father keeps ordering me + not to, but I never say I won't. If he asked me I should tell him that I + did.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha's answer was promptly given. + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't think it dishonorable,” he said. “Of course, you must see + him. It is too bad that you are obliged to see him in—ah—ah—dear + me, what is the word I want? Clan—clan—sounds Scottish, + doesn't it?—oh, yes, clandestine! It is too bad you are obliged to + see him clandestinely, but I suppose your father's attitude makes anything + else impossible. I am very sorry that my claiming to be the evil influence + has had so little effect. That was a mistake, I fear.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't say that, Mr. Bangs. You saved us all from a dreadful scene, and + father himself from—I hate to think what. Don't ever say that it was + a mistake, please. But I do so hate all this hiding and pretending. Some + day it will have to end, but how I don't know. Nelson comes first, of + course; but how can I leave father? I shall see him—Nelson, I mean—to-night, + Mr. Bangs. He has written me saying he is coming over, and I am going to + meet him. He says he has good news. I can't think what it can be. I can't + think of any good news that could come for him and me, except that father + has stopped believing in Marietta Hoag's spirits and has gotten over his + ridiculous prejudice; and that WON'T come—ever.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, it will! I'm sure it will. Dear me, you mustn't lose heart, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + “Mustn't I? No, I suppose I mustn't. Thank you, Mr. Bangs. Nelson and I + are ever and ever so much obliged to you. You are a great comfort to me. I + told Martha that very thing yesterday,” she added. + </p> + <p> + Galusha could not help looking pleased. “Did you, indeed?” he observed. + “Well, well—ah—dear me, that was a rather rash statement, + wasn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit. And do you want to know what she said? She said you were a + great comfort to a good many people, Mr. Bangs. So there; you see!” + </p> + <p> + That evening the moon rolled, like a silver bowl, over the liquid rim of + the horizon, and, upsetting, spilled shimmering, shining, dancing fire in + a broad path from sky edge to the beach at the foot of Gould's Bluffs. At + the top of that bluff, in the rear of a clump of bayberry bushes which + shielded them from the gaze of possible watchers at the lighthouse, Nelson + Howard and Lulie, walking slowly back and forth, saw it rise. + </p> + <p> + Nelson told her the good news he had mentioned in his letter. It was that + he had been offered a position as operator at the great wireless station + in Trumet. It was what he had been striving for and hoping for and his war + record in the radio service had made it possible for him to obtain it. The + pay was good to begin with and the prospect of advancement bright. + </p> + <p> + “And, of course, the best of it is,” he said, “that I shall be no further + away from you than I am now. Trumet isn't a bit farther than South + Wellmouth. There! Don't you think that my good news IS good news?” + </p> + <p> + Of course she did and said so. + </p> + <p> + “And I'm awfully proud of you, too,” she told him. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing to be proud of; I'm lucky, that's all. And don't you see, dear, + how this is going to help us? I shall be earning good pay and I shall save + every cent possible, you can bet on that. Rooms are furnished by the + company for single men, and houses, nice, comfortable houses, for the + married ones. In three months, or in six at the most, I shall have added + enough to what I have saved already to make it possible for us to be + married. And we WILL be married. Just think of you and me having one of + those pretty little houses for our own, and being there together, in our + home! Just think of it! Won't it be wonderful!” + </p> + <p> + He looked down into her face and smiled and she, looking up into his, + smiled, too. But she shook her head, nevertheless. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dear,” she said, “it would be wonderful. But it's too wonderful to + be true, I'm afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “Why? Nonsense! Of course it can be true. And it's going to be, too, in + six months, perhaps sooner.” + </p> + <p> + But still she shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “It can't be, Nelson,” she said, sadly. “Don't you see it can't? There is + father.” + </p> + <p> + “Your father will be all right. That's one of the good things about this + new job of mine. You will be only a little way from him. He'll be here at + the light, with Zach to look after him, and you can come over every few + days to make sure things are going as they should. Why—” + </p> + <p> + She touched his lips with her fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Don't, dear,” she begged. “You know you're only talking just because it + is nice to make-believe. I like to hear you, too; but what is the use when + it's ONLY make-believe? You know what father's health really is; you know + how nervous he is. Doctor Powers told me he must not be overexcited or—or + dreadful things might happen. You saw him at that horrid seance thing.” + </p> + <p> + He shrugged. “If I didn't see I heard,” he admitted. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you heard. And you know how near—Now suppose I should tell him + that you and I intended getting married and going to Trumet to live; what + do you think would happen?” + </p> + <p> + “But, look here, Lulie: You've got to tell him some time, because we ARE + going to be married, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Are we? Yes, I—I hope we are. But, oh, Nelson, sometimes I get + almost discouraged. I CAN'T leave him in that way, you know that. And, in + a sense, I don't want to leave him, because he is my father and I love + him.” + </p> + <p> + “But, confound it, you love me, too, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “You know I do. But—but—oh, dear! What can I do?” + </p> + <p> + He did not answer at once. After a moment he said, rebelliously: “You have + got your own life to live. Your father has lived the biggest part of his. + He hasn't any right to prevent your being happy. It would be different if + he had any excuse for it, reasonable excuse. I'm a—well, I'm not a + thief—or a fool, quite, I hope. I can provide for you comfortably + and I'll do my level best to be a good husband to you. If there was any + excuse for his hating me, any except that idiotic spirit craziness of his. + And what right has he to order you around? A hundred years or so ago + fathers used to order their sons and daughters to marry this one or the + other, and if they didn't mind they disinherited 'em, or threw 'em out of + doors, or some such stuff. At least, that's the way it worked, according + to the books and plays. But that doesn't go nowadays. What right has he—” + </p> + <p> + But again she touched his lips. + </p> + <p> + “Don't, Nelson, please,” she said, gently. “Rights haven't anything to do + with it, of course. You know they haven't, don't you? You know it's just—just + that things are AS they are and that's all. If father was as he used to + be, his real self, and he behaved toward you as he is doing, I shouldn't + hesitate at all. I should marry you and feel I was doing exactly right. + But now—” + </p> + <p> + She stopped and he, stooping, caught a gleam of moisture where the + moonlight touched her cheek. He put his arm about her waist. + </p> + <p> + “Don't, dear,” he said, hastily. “I'm sorry. Forgive me, will you? Of + course you're dead right and I've been talking like a jackass. I'll + behave, honest I will.... But what ARE we going to do? I won't give you + up, you know, no matter if every spirit control in—in wherever they + come from orders me to.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled. “Of course we're not going to give each other up,” she + declared. “As for what we're going to do, I don't know. I suppose there is + nothing to do for the present except to wait and—and hope father may + change his mind. That's all, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. “Waiting is a pretty slow game,” he said. “I wonder, if + I pretended to fall in love with Marietta Hoag, if those Chinese spooks of + hers would send word to Cap'n Jeth that I was really a fairly decent + citizen. Courting Marietta would be hard medicine to take, but if it + worked a cure we might try it. What do you think?” + </p> + <p> + “I should be afraid that the remedy might be worse than the disease. Once + in Marietta's clutches how would you get away?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that would be easy. I'd have Doctor Powers swear that I had been + suffering from temporary softening of the brain and wasn't accountable for + what I'd been doing.” + </p> + <p> + “She might not believe it.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe not, but everybody else would. Nothing milder than softening of the + brain would account for a fellow's falling in love with Marietta Hoag.” + </p> + <p> + A little later, as they were parting, she said, “Nelson, you're an awfully + dear fellow to be so thoughtful and forbearing and—and patient. + Sometimes I think I shouldn't let you wait for me any longer.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me! How are you going to stop me? Of course I'll wait for you. You're + the only thing worth waiting for in the world. Don't you know that?” + </p> + <p> + “I know you think so. But, oh, dear, it seems sometimes as if there never + would be any end to the waiting, and as if I had no right to ask—” + </p> + <p> + “There, there! Don't YOU begin talking about rights. There's going to be + an end and the right kind of end. No Chinese spooks are going to keep us + apart, my girl, not if I can help it.” + </p> + <p> + “I know. But can you help it?... I must go now. Yes, I must, or father + will wonder where I am and begin looking for me. He thinks I am over at + Martha Phipps', you know. Good-night, dear.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, girlie. Don't worry, it's coming out all right for us, I'm + sure of it. This new job of mine is the first step in that direction. + There! Kiss me and run along. Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + They kissed and parted, Lulie to hasten back along the path to the light + and Nelson to stride off in the opposite direction toward South Wellmouth. + Neither of them saw two figures which had, the moment before, appeared + upon the summit of the knoll about thirty yards from the edge of the bluff + and directly behind them. But the pair on the knoll saw them. + </p> + <p> + Martha Phipps had been standing by the window of the sitting room in her + home looking out. She had been standing there for some minutes. Galusha + Bangs, in the rocking-chair by the center table, was looking at her. + Suddenly Martha spoke. + </p> + <p> + “I declare!” she exclaimed. “I do believe that's the loveliest moon I ever + saw. I presume likely,” she added, with a laugh, “it's the same moon I've + always seen; it just looks lovelier, that's all, seems to me. It will be + beautiful to look at from the top of the bluff, the light on the water, I + mean. You really ought to walk over and see it, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha hesitated, rubbed his spectacles, and then was seized with an + inspiration. + </p> + <p> + “I—I will if you will go, too,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Martha turned to see if he was in earnest. + </p> + <p> + “Mercy me!” she exclaimed. “Why should I go? I've seen that moon on that + same water more times than I like to count.” + </p> + <p> + “But you haven't seen it—ah—recently. Now have you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, I don't know as I have. Come to think of it, I don't believe + I've been over to the top of the bank to see the moonlight since—well, + since father died. Father loved to look at salt water by sunlight or + moonlight—or no light. But, good gracious,” she added, “it seems + awfully foolish, doesn't it, to go wading through the wet grass to look at + the moon—at my age?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, not at all, not at all,” persisted Galusha. “I must be—ah—vastly + older than you, Miss Phipps, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but I am, really. One has only to look at me to see. And there are + times when I feel—ah—incredibly ancient; indeed, yes. Now in + your case, Miss Martha—” + </p> + <p> + “In my case I suppose I'm just a slip of a girl. For mercy sakes, don't + let's talk ages, no, nor think about 'em, either.... Do YOU want to go out + to-night to look at that moon, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes—I—if you—” + </p> + <p> + “Then get your rubbers and cap. I'll be ready in a minute.” + </p> + <p> + The moon was well up now and land and sea were swimming in its misty + radiance. There was not a breath of wind and the air was as mild as if the + month had been June and not May. Under their feet the damp grass and low + bushes swished and rustled. An adventurous beetle, abroad before his time, + blundered droning by their heads. From the shadow of a bunch of + huckleberry bushes by the path a lithe figure soared lightly aloft, a + furry paw swept across, and that June bug was knocked into the vaguely + definite locality known as the “middle of next week.” + </p> + <p> + Martha uttered a little scream. “Goodness gracious me!” she exclaimed. + “Lucy Larcom, you bad cat, how you did scare me!” + </p> + <p> + Lucy leaped soundlessly over the clump of huckleberry bushes and galloped + gayly into the distance, his tail waving like a banner. + </p> + <p> + “WELL!” observed his mistress; “for a cat as old as you are I must say!” + </p> + <p> + “He feels young to-night,” said Galusha. “It must be the—ah—moonlight, + I think. Really, I—ah—I feel surprisingly young, myself. I do, + indeed!” + </p> + <p> + Martha laughed blithely. They came to the abrupt little slope at the + southwestern edge of the government property and when he offered to help + her down she took his hand and sprang down herself, almost as lightly and + easily as Lucy could have done it. Galusha laughed, too, light-heartedly + as a boy. His spectacles fell off and he laughed at that. + </p> + <p> + The minute afterward they arrived at the crest of the knoll. Another + moment and the silhouetted figures of Lulie Hallett and Nelson Howard + appeared from behind the clump of bayberry bushes and walked onward + together, his arm about her waist. The pair on the knoll saw the parting. + </p> + <p> + Lulie ran up the path and the door of the light keeper's cottage closed + behind her. Howard disappeared around the bend of the hill. Martha and + Galusha turned hastily and began walking toward home. Neither spoke until + they were almost there. Then Miss Phipps, apparently feeling that + something should be said, observed: “The moon was—was real pretty, + wasn't it, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha started. “Eh?” he queried. “Oh, yes! yes, indeed! Ah—quite + so.” + </p> + <p> + He made the next remark also; it was quite irrelevant. + </p> + <p> + “Youth,” he said, musingly. “Youth is a wonderful thing, really it is.” + </p> + <p> + Possibly his companion understood his thought, or had been thinking along + the same line herself. At all events she agreed. “Yes, it is,” she said. + “It is so. And most of us don't realize how wonderful until it's gone.” + </p> + <p> + From the shadows by the gate Lucy Larcom sprang aloft to knock another + beetle galley-west. Lucy was distinctly a middle-aged cat, but he did not + allow the fact to trouble him. He gathered his June bugs while he might + and did not stop to dream vain dreams of vanished youth. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <p> + Early June came to Gould's Bluffs. The last of the blossoms fell from the + apple and pear trees in the Phipps' orchard, there were young swallows in + the nests beneath the eaves of the shed, and tulips and hyacinths gave + color and fragrance to the flower beds in the front yard. Down in the + village Ras Beebe began his twice-a-year window dressing, removing the + caps, candy, sweaters, oil heaters, patent medicines and mittens to + substitute bathing suits, candy, straw hats, toy shovels, patent medicines + and caps. Small boys began barefoot experiments. Miss Tamson Black + departed for Nantucket to visit a cousin. Mr. Raish Pulcifer had his wife + resurrect his black-and-white striped flannel trousers from the moth chest + and hang them in the yard. “No use talkin',” so Zach Bloomer declared, + “summer is headin' down our way. She'll be here afore we know it.” + </p> + <p> + She was. One pleasant morning Galusha, emerging from the Phipps' “side + door,” saw workmen about the premises of the Restabit Inn. For a week + thereafter the neighborhood echoed with hammer blows and reeked with the + smell of new paint. The Restabit Inn, shaking off its winter shabbiness, + emerged scrubbed, darned, patched and pressed, so to speak, in its last—and + several “lasts before that”—summer suit made over, ready to receive + callers. + </p> + <p> + On the twentieth of the month the callers began to arrive. East Wellmouth + broke out, as a child breaks out with the measles, in brilliant speckles, + the disease in this instance being unmistakably a pronounced case of + summer boarders. The “speckles” were everywhere, about the post office, in + Ras Beebe's store, about the lighthouse, on the beaches, and far and wide + over the hills and hollows. They picknicked in the pine groves, they + giggled in the back seats on prayer meeting nights, they sang noisily on + the way back to the hotel after evening mail sorting, they danced jazzily + in the hotel parlor and on the porches. + </p> + <p> + Martha did not mind them; she said they were rather nice, on the whole, + because they helped to remind her that all creation wasn't East Wellmouth. + Galusha didn't object to them, except when they were TOO noisy at midnight + or thereabouts and interfered with his slumbers. Primmie condescended to + them and aired her knowledge of local celebrities and traditions. Captain + Jethro ignored them utterly and Lulie was popular among them. Only + Zacheus, the philosopher, seemed to find them unmitigated nuisances. + Somehow or other the summer visitor got under Mr. Bloomer's hard shell and + upon his salt-seasoned nerves. + </p> + <p> + “Blast 'em!” grumbled Zach, “I don't know why 'tis, but they rile me like + fury. Prob'ly it's because I ain't never been much used to 'em the way I + would have been if I'd been keepin' light ashore all my days. Out on the + old Hog's Back we never had no visitors to speak of and we used to hanker + for 'em. Here, by Godfreys, they don't give us no time to hanker for + nothin'. And they ask such foolhead questions! One woman, she says to me + yesterday, she says—I was showin' her the foghorn, and says she: 'Do + you have to turn a crank to make it go?' Think of that! A hand crank to + make the fourth highest-power foghorn on the coast blow! I lost my + patience. 'No ma'am,' says I, 'a crank ain't necessary. I just put my + mouth to the touch-hole,' I says, 'and breathe natural and she chirrups.' + She believed it, too. I cal'late I'll catch thunder from Cap'n Jeth if he + finds out what I told her, but I can't help it; there's limits, by + Godfreys domino, limits!” + </p> + <p> + Galusha found, except for the slight annoyance of too many of these + sojourners, that summer at Gould's Bluffs and vicinity was even more + delightful than the fall and spring had been. His friends, the Halls, + whose invitation to their cottage at Wellmouth had been the cause of his + coming to the Cape, were not occupying that cottage this summer; they had + rented it for the season and gone abroad. So he had no old friends to call + upon. But his new friendships were enjoyable and dependable. His health + improved steadily; he gained in strength, and the fear that his guilt in + the affair of the Wellmouth Development stock might be discovered grew + less and less. Only one thing troubled him, and that was so vague that it + was scarcely a trouble. The Institute people had written him of some great + plan for his professional services, a plan which was to develop in the + fall. Now, by all that was right and proper, he should have been + tremendously curious concerning that plan, should have been eagerly + guessing what it might be and counting the days until the time came for + his return to work and its immediate development. But he was not curious, + he did not count the days; for some weird and unnatural reason—or + for no reason whatever—he was not eager to return to work. He, + Galusha Bangs, whose life had been devoted to his pet science, who had had + no thought except for that science, had labored for it and in it every day + for twenty years and had dreamed about it at night—he did not seem + to care to go back to it. He did not seem to want to go anywhere. + Contentment for him was apparently right there at Gould's Bluffs and + nowhere else. Amazing but true. And no less disgraceful than amazing. It + was a state of mind, of course, a psychological state due to physiological + causes and doubtless was but temporary. Nevertheless, it troubled him a + bit. + </p> + <p> + One morning in July he received a shock. Zacheus, returning from the post + office, met him at the Phipps' gate and handed him a letter. + </p> + <p> + “Come in last night's mail,” explained Zach. “I happened to be cruisin' up + to the village so I thought I might as well fetch it down to you, Mr. + Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha thanked him and put the letter in his pocket. After dinner, having + gone to his room, he was searching his pockets for a handkerchief; finding + his handkerchief invariably entailed a search, because he was quite as + likely to have put it in his waistcoat pocket as in those of his trousers, + and just as likely to find it at last in the pocket of his overcoat + downstairs on the rack. In this case he did not find it at all, having + dropped it on the road, but he did find the letter. Still wondering where + he could have put the handkerchief, he absently tore open the envelope and + began to read, as follows: + </p> + <p> + “Professor Galusha C. Bangs, East Wellmouth, Mass. + </p> + <p> + “DEAR SIR: + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Augustus Cabot wishes me to inform you that he has returned to this + office, having, so he feels, quite regained his health. He sends his + regards to you and hopes that you, too, are getting on toward complete + recovery.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha, having read so far, leaned back in his chair. Cousin Gussie well + again! Back again at his Boston office! Why, this was unexpected news! He + was gratified and pleased, of course. Nevertheless, coupled with the + gratification was a slight feeling of uneasiness. Nevada—well, + Nevada was such a long and safe way off; whereas Boston was so very and + dangerously near. To a person with a guilty conscience, one with a secret + to conceal, the advantages of Nevada as a residence for a possibly + inquisitive relative were obvious. And was Thomas writing merely to impart + the news of his employer's return? Or were there other reasons? + </p> + <p> + “You will remember” [began the next sentence of the letter], “writing him + some time ago, while he and I were in Nevada, asking his advice concerning + some corporation, the stock of which a friend of yours was considering, + either as a purchase or sale, I do not remember which.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha closed his eyes and passed an agitated hand across his forehead. + His question was answered; there WERE other reasons. + </p> + <p> + “You may not be aware” [the letter continued], “of the forest fire which, + on April seventeenth, destroyed the sanitarium and camps in which Mr. + Cabot and I were staying. The entire institution, including our own camp, + was burned and with it were destroyed all my business records, letters + received, copies of letters sent, etc. At the time we were not at all + concerned with this loss, being fearful of the effect which the excitement + might have upon Mr. Cabot's health. I am glad to say, however, that the + effect, if any, was not injurious. But the loss of all correspondence, + including that with you, is now causing some annoyance. My recollection is + that I advised your friend not to buy any stock of the nature you + described, or, if he owned any, not to attempt a forced sale. As we have + heard nothing further from you since, and as neither our Mr. Minor nor Mr. + Barbour report your consulting them on the subject, I take it your + interest in the matter is closed.” + </p> + <p> + Again Galusha leaned back in his chair. But this time he drew a long + breath of relief. Mr. Thomas “took it” that his interest in the matter was + closed, did he? Well, it was, indeed it was. The sole interest he now had + in the Wellmouth Development Company was to forget it utterly. + </p> + <p> + And yet, if it was not concerning the Development matter that Thomas was + writing, what was it? The beatific smile which had followed the sigh of + relief faded from his face and he began to read again. + </p> + <p> + “In looking over your affairs which, among others, have kept me very busy + since my return, I find,” wrote Thomas, “that Mr. Barbour, at your + request, sent you a check on March 13th, for fourteen thousand three + hundred and ten dollars and thirty-eight cents, the same being your share + of the Tinplate reorganization profits. On March 15th, you came personally + to this office and exchanged that check for five thousand dollars in cash + and another check for ninety-three hundred and ten dollars and + thirty-eight cents. On March 24th, according to our records, you again + came in person and exchanged this new check for eighty-two hundred dollars + in cash and a third check for eleven hundred and ten dollars and + thirty-eight cents. This third check we do not find has as yet been + presented for payment nor has it been deposited to your account with us. + Considering the lapse of time since the check was drawn, this seems + somewhat unusual and so I am writing to ask concerning it. Mr. Cabot + wishes me to add, also, that as thirteen thousand, two hundred dollars, + the amount of cash drawn by you on the two occasions mentioned, is a large + sum, he is, as your financial guardian—this is the term he requests + me to use—a trifle anxious concerning it. He cannot, he says, + conceive of a use to which you could put such a sum, particularly in your + present location on the Cape. He wishes me to ask you to write him + particulars in the matter. To his request I am adding my own concerning + the missing check. A prompt reply will greatly oblige us both. Apologizing + for the inconvenience which this may cause you, and with Mr. Cabot's + sincere regards and good wishes, I am, + </p> + <p> + “Yours respectfully, + </p> + <p> + “GEORGE L. THOMAS.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs' smiles, beatific or otherwise, had so far vanished by this time + that he could not summon them again that day. He attempted to appear + cheerful during supper that evening and breakfast next morning, but it was + a sorrowful cheer. Martha asked if he was sick. He said he was not, indeed + no, really, but she looked as if she did not believe him. Primmie's + suspicions of dropsy, or some equally distressing ailment, revived. She + watched him for signs of relapse. + </p> + <p> + The letter requested an immediate reply. That reply was neither written + nor sent. Mr. Bangs could not think of a reply which would embrace the two + elements, safety and sanity. It was impossible to tell the truth and + dangerous to attempt to tell anything else. So he did not answer the + Thomas letter. + </p> + <p> + In a week he received a second one, asking if he had gotten the first. + This simply HAD to be acknowledged, so he did so. He wrote that his friend + was no longer interested in the stock concerning which he had inquired. + Also he returned the check for the balance of the Tinplate payment—it + had been lying in his bureau drawer ever since he brought it from Boston—but + he made no mention of what he had done with the eighty-two hundred dollars + in cash nor the five thousand which he had previously drawn. He did not + refer to these sums at all. He requested that the check for the Tinplate + balance be deposited to his account and sent it in the envelope with his + letter to Thomas. Then he fearfully awaited the next blow. + </p> + <p> + It came, and in a new fashion, about a week later. He and Martha were in + the sitting room after supper when the telephone bell rang. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, Miss Martha,” said Galusha, “but wasn't that our—I + should say your ring?” + </p> + <p> + Martha smiled. “I didn't notice,” she said. “You're always thinkin' you + hear our ring, Mr. Bangs. The last time you heard it and called me to the + 'phone, it turned out to be Emulous Dodd, the undertaker. He said, 'I + don't want you.' I told him I was thankful for that.” + </p> + <p> + Her lodger shook his head. “I'm very sorry,” he said. “These telephone + calls down here—'Two long and three short' and—ah—the + like—they do confuse me, I admit. I really can't seem to get + accustomed to them. Now... Oh, but that IS your ring, isn't it, Miss + Martha?” + </p> + <p> + It was. Martha took down the receiver. + </p> + <p> + “Yes... yes,” she said. “Yes, this is Phipps.... Oh, all right.... The + girl says it's a long-distance call,” she added, turning to Galusha. “Who + can be callin' ME from long distance?... Yes... yes.... This is Miss + Phipps speakin' now.... Who?... Oh, Mr. Bangs? Yes, he's right here. It's + for you, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha took the receiver from her hand. “Ah—hello!” he hailed. The + wire buzzed and sang. Then, in his ear and with surprising clearness and + nearness, a voice said, brusquely: “Hello! Hello, there! Is that you, + Loosh?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha recognized the voice. He had not heard it for a long time, but he + recognized it at once. And, recognizing it, something like panic seized + him. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” shouted the voice again. “Hello, Galusha! Is that you?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha glanced fearfully over his shoulder. Martha was gazing at him. She + looked alarmed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what is it, Mr. Bangs?” she asked. “It—it's not bad news, is + it?” + </p> + <p> + “No—ah—no,” he faltered. “I—I—” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? What's that?” demanded the voice in the receiver, impatiently. + “Hello! Who is this, anyway?” + </p> + <p> + “Is there somebody sick or—or anything?” asked Martha. “No—no, + Miss Martha. It's all right, really. Yes, indeed, I—Oh, quite right. + Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “But you look so frightened.” + </p> + <p> + “Do I? Oh, not in the least. That is, I... Yes, yes, I hear. Yes, this is + Bangs speaking.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it is! Well, I'm glad you're speaking at last. You're Galusha Bangs, + you say?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Yes, I—I think so.” + </p> + <p> + “You THINK so! That's good! Don't you know whether you are or not?” + </p> + <p> + “I meant I—I thought I said so. I am Galusha Bangs. Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! Then we've settled so much. You know who I am, of course?” + </p> + <p> + Did he? Oh, if he only did not! He cast another alarmed glance in his + landlady's direction. He wondered if the voice which was so distinctly + audible in his ear could be heard and understood in the room. Oh, this was + dreadful, dreadful! + </p> + <p> + “HELLO!” roared the voice again. “Hello, Bangs! Are you there?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes—ah—yes. I am here. Quite so—yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm glad. I thought you might have gone clamming or something. + Well, I asked if you knew who this was? Do you?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha swallowed, shut his eyes, and then faced the inevitable. + </p> + <p> + “It—it is Cousin Gussie, isn't it?” he faltered. + </p> + <p> + He heard, or imagined that he did, a little gasp of surprise from Miss + Phipps. He did not dare look again in her direction. + </p> + <p> + “That's right,” said the voice. “You're a good guesser. How are you, + anyway?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha stammered that he was very well. He added that he was glad to see + his relative. The relative promptly observed that his eyesight must be + remarkably good. + </p> + <p> + “You know what I've called you up for, of course?” she added. + </p> + <p> + Martha had risen and was leaving the room on tiptoe. + </p> + <p> + “You and your cousin can talk better alone, I know,” she whispered. “I + want to see Primmie a minute, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + Her lodger regarded her mutely. The expression of dumb misery on his face + caused her to pause for an instant. + </p> + <p> + “You're SURE there's no bad news, Mr. Bangs?” she asked, anxiously. + </p> + <p> + He managed to smile, but the smile was not a convincing success. “Oh, yes—ah—quite, + quite,” he protested. “It—it is—ah—extremely pleasant, + really.... Yes—yes, Cousin Gussie, I am—I am still here.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you are! Fine! I thought probably you had gone to dig another + quahaug. Why don't you answer letters?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha glanced desperately at the kitchen door. Thank heaven, it was + closed. + </p> + <p> + “I answered yours,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + “You did not. You only half answered it. That idiot Barbour sent you a + check for over fourteen thousand dollars. Of course, if I had been well + and here he wouldn't have done any such fool thing. He says you told him + to.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah—did I?” + </p> + <p> + “Did you? Don't you know whether you did or not? Well, never mind. You + came up here on two separate occasions, so they tell me, and drew thirteen + thousand of that in cash and took it away with you. Now what on earth did + you do that for?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha did not answer. Cabot immediately demanded to know if he was still + there. Assured of this, he repeated his question. + </p> + <p> + “I—I wanted it,” faltered Galusha. + </p> + <p> + “You WANTED it! Wanted thirteen thousand two hundred dollars in cash down + there on the clam flats? What did you want it FOR?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I—Well, you see—you see—” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't see. Now, look here, old man: I realize you're of age and + that your money is your own, and all that. It isn't, legally speaking, one + single bit my business if you take every cent you've got and sink it in + the middle of Cape Cod Bay. But I promised your aunt before she died that + I would try and see that you didn't do that kind of thing. She knew you + couldn't take care of money; I knew it; why, confound it, you knew it, + too! You and I talked that whole matter over and we agreed I wasn't to + give you any large sums of your money, no matter how hard you begged for + them, unless you told me why you wanted them and I was satisfied it was + all right. Didn't we agree to that? Isn't that so?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, yes, Cousin Gussie. You have been very kind. I appreciate + it, I assure you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, be hanged! I haven't been kind. I've only been trying to keep you + from being TOO kind to people who work you for a good thing, that's all. + Look here, Loosh: <i>I</i> know what you've done with that thirteen + thousand dollars.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha shot one more pitiful glance in the direction of the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—ah—do you?” he stammered. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. You've given it away, haven't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well—well, you see—” + </p> + <p> + “You have? I knew it! And I know whom you've given it to.” + </p> + <p> + There was no answer to be made to this appalling assertion. Poor Galusha + merely clung to the receiver and awaited his death sentence. + </p> + <p> + “You've given it to some mummy-hunter to fit out another grave-robbing + expedition. Now, haven't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why—” + </p> + <p> + “Be a sport now, Loosh! Tell me the truth. That's what you've done, isn't + it?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha hesitated, closing his eyes, struggled with his better nature, + conquered it, and faltered: “Why—why—in a way of speaking, I + suppose—” + </p> + <p> + “I knew it! I bet Minor a dinner on it. Well, confound you, Loosh; don't + you realize they're only working you for what they can get out of you? + Haven't I told you not to be such an ass? You soft-headed old... Here! + What's the matter with this wire? Hello, Central! Hello!...” + </p> + <p> + The Cabot oration broke off in the middle and was succeeded by a series of + rattles and thumps and jingles like a barrel of kitchenware falling + downstairs; this was followed by a startling stillness, which was, in + turn, broken by an aggrieved voice wailing: “Say, Central, why can't I get + that twenty-seven ring fourteen Bayport? I bet you you've given me every + other d——number on Cape Cod!” + </p> + <p> + Galusha hung up the receiver. Then he sat down in the rocker and gazed at + the opposite wall. His secret was safe. But that safety he had bought at + the price of another falsehood—told to Cousin Gussie this time. He + did not seem to be the same Galusha Cabot Bangs at all. That Galusha—the + former Galusha—had considered himself a gentleman and would no more + have told a lie than he would have stolen his neighbor's spoons. This one—his + present self—lied not only once but twice and thrice. He told one + untruth to cover another. He lived in an atmosphere of blackest falsehood + and deception. The sole ray of light in the darkness was the knowledge + that Martha Phipps did not know his real character. She considered him + honest and truthful. In order that she might continue to think him so, he + would go on prevaricating forever, if necessary. + </p> + <p> + It preyed upon his conscience, nevertheless. The thought uppermost in his + mind was expressed in a reply which he made to a question asked by Mr. + Bloomer on an afternoon of that week. Zach and Primmie were, as so often + happened, involved in an argument and, as also so often happened, they + called on him to act as referee. + </p> + <p> + “We was talkin' about names, Mr. Bangs,” explained Primmie. “He's always + makin' fun of my name. I told him my name was pretty enough to get put + into poetry sometimes. You know—” + </p> + <p> + “I told her,” broke in Zach, solemnly, but with a wink at Galusha, “that + the only thing I could think of to rhyme with 'Primrose' was 'Jim Crows.'” + </p> + <p> + “I never said it rhymed,” protested Miss Cash, hotly. “You can have your + name in poetry without its rhymin', I guess likely. You're always tellin' + me about how 'Zacheus he, climbed up a tree—' Now if your name had + to rhyme 'twould have to be—er—er—well, nothing',” + triumphantly; “'cause nothin' COULD rhyme with Zacheus.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bloomer, solemn as ever, shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it could,” he declared. “What's the name of that plant Lulie's got + in the settin' room window over home? The one with the prickers on it. + Cat-tailed—no, rat-tailed—um—” + </p> + <p> + “Cactus.” Galusha supplied the word. + </p> + <p> + “That's it,” said Zach. “That would do it. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 'Old man Zach'us + Shinned up a cactus—' +</pre> + <p> + Have to step lively, wouldn't he?” he added, with a chuckle. + </p> + <p> + Primmie sniffed. “Silly!” she retorted. “What was that pretty piece of + poetry you told me the other day that had my name in it, Mr. Bangs? The + one about it bein' so and so and not much else? You know the one.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha obliged. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “'A primrose by the river's brim + A yellow primrose was to him, + And it was nothing more.'” + </pre> + <p> + “There!” said Primmie, triumphantly. “Do you hear that, Zach Bloomer? + That's poetry, the real kind. And it's got my name in it, too.” + </p> + <p> + Zach shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “You ain't a yellow primrose, Posy,” he said. “You're a red one-red and + speckled. Mr. Bangs,” he added, before the outraged Primmie could reply, + “I think consider'ble about names, havin' such a out-of-common sort of a + one myself. I never heard your name afore.... Galusha.... Godfreys! Was + you named for somebody in the family?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. Yes, yes. Most generally names like that, the tough ones, come out + of the Bible in the fust place. Is your name in Scriptur' anywheres?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. I—ah—presume I should, but I don't.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Queer names in the Bible.... Um-hm. And some good ones, too.... + I've always been a good deal interested in names. Used to set around hours + at a stretch, when I was aboard the old lightship, and try to pick out + what name in Scriptur' I cal'lated I'd ruther be called. Finally I got + down to two—John and Paul. Both of 'em short and sensible, no frills + to 'em. Of the two I figgered maybe Paul would fit me best. Paul, he was + shipwrecked one time, you remember, and I've been wrecked no less'n + three.... Paul.... Um-hm.... Say, Mr. Bangs, have you ever tried to fit + yourself with a Bible name?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha smiled and said he never had. Primmie, who had been silent for + almost three minutes, could remain so no longer. + </p> + <p> + “I think Solomon would be the right name for you, Mr. Bangs,” she cried, + enthusiastically. “You know such a terrible lot—about some kinds of + things.” This last a hasty addition. + </p> + <p> + Zach snorted. “Solomon!” he repeated. “Dan Beebe—Ras Beebe's cousin + over to Trumet—named his boy Solomon, and last week they took the + young-one up to the State home for feeble-minded. What name would you pick + out of the Bible for yourself, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + It was then that Galusha made the reply to which reference has been made. + His smile changed and became what Primmie described as “one of his + one-sided ones.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah—um—well—Ananias, perhaps,” he said, and walked away. + </p> + <p> + Zach and Miss Cash stared after him. Of course, it was the latter who + spoke first. + </p> + <p> + “Ananias!” she repeated. “Why, Ananias was the feller that—that lied + so and was struck down dead. I remember him in Sunday school. Him and his + wife Sophrony. Seems to me 'twas Sophrony; it might have been Maria, + though. But, anyhow, they died lyin'.” + </p> + <p> + “That so? I thought they lied dyin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, be still! But what did Mr. Bangs pick out THAT name for—of all + names? Can you tell me that?” + </p> + <p> + Zacheus could not, of course, nor did he attempt it. Instead, he rose and + gazed sadly at his companion. + </p> + <p> + “He said it for a joke, Buttercups,” he observed. “Joke. YOU know, a joke. + One of them things that—I tell you what: You look up 'joke' in the + dictionary and then, after you've found out what 'tis, I'll lend you a + patent-medicine almanac with one or two of 'em in it.... Well, I've got to + be gettin' under way. So long, Posy.” + </p> + <p> + Possibly Primmie might have inquired further into the reasons which led + the Phipps' lodger to select for himself the name of the person who “died + lying,” but that very afternoon, while on an errand in the village, she + heard the news that Nelson Howard had been offered a position as operator + at the Trumet wireless station, had accepted and was already there and at + work. Every professional gossip in East Wellmouth was talking about it, + not only because of its interest as a piece of news, but because of the + astonishing fact that no one but those intimately interested had + previously known of the offer. + </p> + <p> + “Why in the world,” said Becky Blount, expressing the opinion of what + Captain Jethro Hallett would have called her “tribe,” “he felt 'twas + necessary to hide it as if 'twas something to be ashamed of, <i>I</i> + don't see. Most folks would have been proud to be offered such a chance. + But that Nelse Howard's queer, anyhow. Stuck-up, I call him; and Lulie + Hallett's the same way. She nor him won't have anything to do with common + folks in this town. And it'll be worse NOW.” + </p> + <p> + This was quite untrue, of course, for Lulie and Nelson were extremely + friendly with all except the Blounts, Marietta Hoag, and a few more of + their kind. The solid, substantial people in the village liked them, just + as they liked and respected Martha Phipps. These people took pains to + congratulate young Howard and to whisper a hope to Lulie that her father's + unreasonable opposition to the former might be lessened by the news of his + advancement. + </p> + <p> + Primmie, returning home with the sensation, was disappointed to find it no + sensation at all. Lulie had told both Miss Phipps and Galusha shortly + after Nelson told her. She had told her father also, but he had not + expressed gratification. Instead, the interview between them had ended + unpleasantly. + </p> + <p> + “The first thing he did,” said Lulie, when telling the story to her + confidants at the Phipps' home, “was to ask me how I knew about it. I told + him that Nelson told me.” + </p> + <p> + Martha lifted her brows. “My!” she exclaimed. “You did?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I did. I don't know why exactly. Somehow I felt just then as if I + didn't care.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did he say?” + </p> + <p> + “He didn't say as much as I thought he would. He turned and stared at me + under those big eyebrows of his, and then he said: 'When did you see him?' + I said, 'Yesterday.' 'When did you see him before that?' I said, 'About a + week ago. Nelson and I usually see each other about once a week, father,' + I told him.” + </p> + <p> + “My!” exclaimed Martha, again. “That was plain enough, to be sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, wasn't it? I wonder now that I had the courage. He didn't flare up + as I expected he would, as I am sure he would have done last fall, for + instance. He just looked and looked at me. Then he said: 'Are you really + planning to marry that fellow, Lulie?' I thought that as I had gone so + far, I might as well go the rest, so I said: 'Yes, father, some day. Not + as long as you want me or need me, but some day, if he is willing to wait + for me.' He just kept on pulling his beard and looking at me. At last, + when he did speak, he asked, 'In spite of me and—and your mother?' + It made me feel dreadfully wicked; I almost cried, I guess. But I had to + go through with it then, so I said: 'I don't want to marry “in spite” of + any one, father. You know I don't. And I shall never leave you—never. + But can't you PLEASE see Nelson as he is and not—and not—' He + interrupted me there; in fact, I doubt if he heard me. 'Your mother has + warned me against that young fellow,' he said. 'You know she has, Lulie.' + 'I know you THINK she has, father,' I said.” + </p> + <p> + Martha's hands fell in her lap. Galusha shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me!” he observed. “Dear me!” + </p> + <p> + Lulie nodded. “Yes, I know,” she said. “As soon as I said it I thought + 'Dear me,' too. But I don't believe he heard that, either. He seemed to be + thinking and didn't speak for ever so long. Then he said, 'The revelations + from above ain't to be set aside. No, no, they lay a duty on us.' Then he + stopped again and turned and walked away. The last words he said, as he + was going out of the room, were, 'Don't let me ever see that Howard around + this house. You hear me?' And that is the way it ended. He hasn't + mentioned the subject since. But, at least,” said Lulie, with an attempt + at a smile, “he didn't call Nelson a 'swab.' I suppose that is some + comfort.” + </p> + <p> + Martha and Galusha agreed that it was. The latter said: “It seems to me + that you may consider it all quite encouraging, really. It is only the—ah—spirits + which stand in the way now.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but oh, Mr. Bangs, they always will stand in the way, I'm afraid. + Other things, real things or real people we might change or persuade, but + how can you change a—a make-believe spirit that isn't and never was, + except in Marietta Hoag's ridiculous imagination? Oh, Martha,” she added, + “you and Mr. Bangs don't think I'm horrid to speak like this, do you? Of + course, if I believed, as father does, that it was really my mother's + spirit speaking, I should—well, I should be.... But what is the use? + I CAN'T believe such a thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you can't, child,” said Martha. “I knew your mother and if she + was comin' back to this earth she wouldn't do it through Marietta Hoag's + head. She had too much self-respect for that.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha stroked his chin. “I suppose,” he said, “if there were some way in + which we might influence that imagination of Miss—ah—Hoag's, a + change might be brought about. It would be difficult to reach the said + imagination, however, wouldn't it? I once found a way to reach a tomb of + the XIIIth Dynasty which had been buried for thousands of years under + thirty-three feet of rock and sand. I located it by accident—that + is, in a way, it was an accident; of course, we had been searching for + some time. I happened to strike the earth at a certain point with my + camera tripod and it sounded quite hollow. You see, there was a—ah—sort + of shaft, as one might say, which came quite close to the surface at that + point. It sounded surprisingly hollow, like a—like something quite + empty, you know. Yes.” + </p> + <p> + Martha nodded. “If you struck Marietta's head anywhere,” she observed, “it + would sound the same way. She's got about as much brains as a punkin + lantern.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—ah—yes, but I fear we should gain little by doing that. + We shouldn't get at our 'spirit' that way. But perhaps we may find a way. + There are obstacles, but there were obstacles above and about that tomb + also. Dear me, yes. We must consider, Miss Lulie; we must, so to speak, + consider.” + </p> + <p> + His advice to Nelson was similar. + </p> + <p> + “I should say the situation was a bit more encouraging, Mr. Howard,” he + said. They had been discussing Lulie's talk with her father. Nelson + nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it is, a little bit,” he admitted. “It seems barely possible that + the old man is not quite as bitter against me as he was. For instance, I + met him yesterday at the post office and said 'Good-morning, Cap'n Jeth.' + I always speak to him whenever I meet him, make it a point to, but he + never speaks to me. He didn't speak yesterday, but he did bow. It was more + of a bob than a bow and he looked savage enough to bite me; but, at least, + he went so far as to show he knew I was on earth. That was rather funny, + too, his doing that. I wonder why he did.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha reflected a moment. Then he said: “I shouldn't be greatly + surprised if your new position at the radio station may be the cause, + Captain Hallett is—ah—not unmindful of success in business. + Miss Mar—ah—that is, Miss Phipps says he is a very shrewd + business man. My own experience,” he added, meditatively, “would lead me + to that conclusion, also.” + </p> + <p> + Nelson was surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Have you had business dealings with the cap'n?” he asked. “I never + thought of you as a business man, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha started and seemed embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh—ah—ah—I'm not, Mr. Howard,” he declared, hastily. + “Indeed, no.” + </p> + <p> + “But you spoke of your business experience with Cap'n Jeth; or I thought + you did.” + </p> + <p> + The little archaeologist looked very solemn. + </p> + <p> + “Such experiences as I have had with Captain Hallett,” he observed, “have + been—ah—most unbusinesslike.” + </p> + <p> + They parted a few minutes later. Said Nelson, gloomily: + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid the situation hasn't changed a whole lot, after all, Mr. + Bangs. Cap'n Jeth may think more of my new job than he did of my old one, + but he doesn't think any better of me as a son-in-law. And he won't, so + long as he believes in that fool spirit stuff.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha stroked his chin. “We must consider those spirits, Mr. Howard,” he + said. “Dear me, yes; we must seriously consider those spirits.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <p> + August is the banner month at all northern seaside resorts. August at East + Wellmouth crowded the Restabit Inn to overflowing. On pleasant Sundays the + long line of cars flying through the main road of the village on the way + to Provincetown met and passed the long line returning Bostonward. The + sound of motor horns echoed along the lane leading to Gould's Bluffs. + Galusha found it distinctly safer and less nerve-racking to walk on the + grass bordering that lane than in the lane itself, as had hitherto been + his custom. The harassed Zacheus led more visitors than ever up and down + the lighthouse stairs, expressing his opinion of those visitors, after + their departure, with fluency and freedom. Mr. Bloomer's philosophy helped + him through most annoyances but it broke down under the weight of the + summer boarder and his—or—her questions. + </p> + <p> + Galusha, in his daily walks, kept far afield, avoiding the traveled ways. + His old resort, the Baptist cemetery, he seldom visited now, having + examined and re-examined all the interesting stones within its borders. He + had discovered another ancient burial ground, over on the South Wellmouth + road, and occasionally his wanderings took him as far as that. The path to + and from this cemetery led over the edge of the bluff and wound down to + the beach by the creek and landlocked harbor where his hat—the brown + derby—had put to sea that Sunday morning in the previous October. + The path skirted the creek for a little way, then crossed on a small + bridge and climbed the pine-clad hills on the other side. + </p> + <p> + Late one afternoon in August, Galusha, returning along this path, met a + man coming in the other direction. The man was a stranger to him and + obviously not a resident of East Wellmouth. He was a stout, + prosperous-looking individual, well-dressed and with a brisk manner. When + Mr. Bangs first saw him he was standing at a point near the foot of the + bluff, and gazing intently at the view. Galusha turned the corner above + the bridge where the path re-entered the pine grove. When he emerged again + the man had walked on to the little rise by the farther edge of the creek. + He was standing there, as he had stood at the point where Galusha first + noticed him, looking about, up and down the creek, across the little + harbor, at the beaches, the sand cliffs, the pines and the sea. + </p> + <p> + Galusha crossed the bridge and approached along the path. The stranger + heard his step and turned. + </p> + <p> + “Good-afternoon,” said Galusha. + </p> + <p> + The man nodded and returned the greeting. + </p> + <p> + “Nice view from here,” he observed. Galusha agreed that the view was very + nice, indeed. He passed on and turned to climb the bluff. Then the + stranger called to him. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me,” he said. “But may I ask you a question or two? Don't want to + keep you if you are in a hurry, though.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha declared himself to be not in the least hurried. The man walked + toward him. + </p> + <p> + “Are you acquainted about here?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why—ah—yes, to some extent. Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I mean do you know the lay of the land in this vicinity?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—ah—yes, I think so. Fairly well.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. Can you tell me how much water there is in that channel out + yonder?” He pointed toward the mouth of the inlet, where the two lines of + creaming breakers approached each other, but did not meet. + </p> + <p> + “No—no, I am sorry, but I can't.” + </p> + <p> + “How deep is it off here opposite where we're standing?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me! I'm afraid I don't know that, either. When you asked concerning + the lay of the land I didn't understand you meant the—ah—lay + of the water. I'm very sorry.” + </p> + <p> + The man laughed. “That's all right,” he said. “Asked my question the wrong + way, didn't I? Well, tell me a little about the land, then. Are the woods + the other side of that hill or only on this?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha informed him concerning the extent of the pine grove. The stranger + asked some questions about the course of the creek above the bridge, the + distance from the main highway, whether the land beyond the hill was + settled or unoccupied. His final question was concerning the Restabit Inn. + </p> + <p> + “Any other hotels around here within ten miles?” he asked. When told there + were not, he merely nodded, making no comment. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm much obliged,” he said. “I was just loafing around and a little + curious, that's all. Thanks. Hope I haven't kept you too long. Good-day.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha followed the winding path up the face of the high bluff. When, + having reached its top, he paused to get fresh breath in place of that he + had lost, he looked down and saw his questioner standing where he had left + him and, apparently, still admiring the view. + </p> + <p> + The following afternoon they saw each other again. This time the stranger + was on the other side of the creek, wandering about at the edge of the + pine grove. He acknowledged Galusha's bow with a wave of the hand, but he + did not come nearer to ask more questions. + </p> + <p> + That evening, at the supper table, Mr. Bangs mentioned the meeting. + Primmie, who prided herself upon knowing every visitor in town and where + he or she came from, was ready with the information in this case. + </p> + <p> + “I know who he is,” she declared. “His name's Williams and him and his + wife's stoppin' at the Restabit. They never meant to stay there only one + night, but his automobile blowed up or busted out somethin' and they had + to send to Boston to get a new one. It's a dreadful expensive kind of a + one, the auto is, one of them—them Pieced-Arrows, all upholstery and + drapery window curtains and places to put bouquets and your feet in winter + to warm 'em—your feet, I mean, not the bouquets—and—” + </p> + <p> + “There, there, Primmie,” said Martha. “That will do. For mercy sakes, how + did you find out all that?” + </p> + <p> + “Their chauffeur told me. I know him, too. Him and me was introduced last + night when he stopped in to get a drink of water. His name is Kelly, and + he—” + </p> + <p> + “Wait a minute. When you and he were introduced, you say? Who introduced + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, he did, Miss Martha. You see, he was comin' along by and he see me + out settin' on the side steps, you know. And he stopped and he says: 'You + look lonesome' he says. 'Well,' says I, 'I may LOOK so, but I ain't; my + savin' soul, no!' Then he wanted to know if he couldn't have a drink of + water and, of course—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I see—of course. I think you had better sit in the house this + evenin', Primmie.” + </p> + <p> + The “Pieced-Arrow” car, with Mr. Kelly on the driver's seat and Mr. and + Mrs. Williams inside, left East Wellmouth at the end of that week. Yet + once more before the season closed Galusha fancied that he caught a + glimpse of that car's owner. The time was the first week in September and + Galusha, returning later than usual along the path from South Wellmouth, + saw two figures walking along the beach of the inlet. They were a good way + off, but one certainly did resemble Williams as he remembered him. The + brisk step was like his and the swing of the heavy shoulders. The other + figure had seemed familiar, too, but it disappeared behind a clump of + beach-plum bushes and did not come out again during the time that Galusha + remained in sight. On reflection the latter decided that he was mistaken. + Of course, Williams could not be one of the pair, having left the Cape. It + was too dark to see plainly; and, after all, it made little difference + whether it was he or not. Mr. Bangs stopped speculating on the subject and + promptly forgot it entirely. + </p> + <p> + On the morning after Labor Day there was a general exodus of city + sojourners from the Inn and on September 15 it closed its doors. The + weather was still beautiful and mild, even more so than during the + previous month, but East Wellmouth's roads and lanes were no longer + crowded. The village entered upon its intermediate season, that autumn + period of quiet and restful beauty, which those who know and love the Cape + consider most delightful of the year. + </p> + <p> + Galusha enjoyed its beauties hugely. He could stroll where he pleased now + and no charging and bellowing motor car was likely to awaken him from his + daydreams and cause him to leap frantically into the gutter. Sunsets over + the western dunes and the Bay were hazily wonderful fantasies of crimson + and purple and gold and sapphire, with the nets and poles of the distant + fish weirs scattered here and there about the placid water like bits of + fairy embroidery. And then to end his walk by turning in at the Phipps' + gate; the lamplight in the cozy dining room shining a welcome and Martha's + pleasant, attractive face above the teacups. It was like coming home, like + coming to a real home, his home. He dreaded to think of leaving it—even + for his loved science and the promised “great plan” which the Institute + people were to present him that very fall or winter. + </p> + <p> + He had heard nothing further from them concerning the plan, but he knew he + was likely to hear at any moment. He was well, perfectly well now, and + stronger than he had been for a long, long time. He felt himself + abundantly able to take charge of an exploring expedition, or to + reorganize a department, to do anything which the Institute might ask him + to do. His guess was that the plan was for another archaeological + expedition, one to go farther afield and equipped for more thorough + research than any yet sent out. He himself had urged the need of such an + expedition many times, but when the war came all such ideas were given up. + The giving up had been, on his part, although he realized the necessity + which prompted it and even urged the yielding to that necessity, a bitter + disappointment. + </p> + <p> + And now—well, now he could not seem to arouse an atom of real + enthusiasm. He should be too excited to sleep, but he did sleep well. When + he dreamed of Egypt and the tombs of the Ptolemies, there was always a + Cape Cod cottage in the foreground. And the cottage never varied in + design; it was always the “Phipps' place,” and its mistress was always + standing in the doorway. That was the great trouble, he knew it. He was + going to be homesick for that cottage and its contents. If they might only + be transferred with him to Egypt, then the land of the Pharaohs would be + even more paradisical than he used to think it. + </p> + <p> + He told Martha of the promised plan and its call to duty. Oddly enough, + thereafter they discussed it but little. Other subjects, although mere + commonplaces, they seemed to find more interesting. One evening, however, + they were together in the sitting room and Martha said: + </p> + <p> + “I noticed you got a letter from Washin'ton to-day, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha nodded. “Yes,” he said. “It wasn't a letter exactly. Merely + another of the regular reports, that is all.” + </p> + <p> + “I see.... Well, I suppose you will be hearin' from them pretty soon about—about + that other matter. The plan they told you they had for you.” + </p> + <p> + He nodded again. “Dear me, yes,” he agreed. “I suppose I shall.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you say 'Dear me'? You want to hear, don't you? It will be a + wonderful thing for you, I should think. It is sure to be somethin' you + will like, because they said so in their letter.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—ah—yes.” + </p> + <p> + Both were silent for a brief interval, then Martha said: + </p> + <p> + “I presume likely I shall be sittin' here in this very room this winter, + doin' just the very same thing I'm doin' now, knittin' or sewin', with + everything just as it is, cat and plants and Primmie and all the everyday + things I've been amongst all my life. And you'll be away off, goodness + knows where, among goodness knows what sorts of queer people and queer + places.... Well,” she added, with a smile, “you won't have any one to fret + you about whether you put on rubbers or not. That'll be a comfort for you, + at any rate.” + </p> + <p> + He did not seem to find great comfort in the prospect. + </p> + <p> + “I shall not put them on,” he said. “I know I sha'n't. I shall forget all + about them, and forget to eat at regular times, and to—ah—keep + my head covered in the sun. Why, do you know,” he added, in a burst of + confidence and quite as if he had not said the same thing before, “when I + am by myself I always forget things like that, things that real people—ah—normal + people, remember. Then I have—ah—indigestion and headaches and + all sorts of miserable ailments. I shall forget again, of course, and my + friends, the normal ones, will tell me, as they always do, that I need a—ah—keeper, + so to speak. Oh, dear, yes.” + </p> + <p> + She was indignant. “A keeper!” she repeated. “The idea! I do wish you + wouldn't keep speakin' of yourself as simple-minded or crazy, Mr. Bangs. + You are absent-minded, I know, but what of it? Whose business is that?” + </p> + <p> + He rubbed his chin. “Why, here,” he observed, smiling slightly, “you have + been kind enough to make it YOUR business, Miss Martha. The reason I do + not have—ah—sunstrokes and colds and headaches here is that + you take pains to see that I am protected against their causes. I realize + that. And I realize, too,” he added, “that in Egypt I shall miss your—your + great kindness. I shall miss all this—this room and all—very + much, indeed. I think—no, I know I have never spent such a pleasant + year as this has been. And I fear I shall never spend another as + pleasant.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed, but she looked pleased, nevertheless. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” she exclaimed. “You'll have many more a great deal pleasanter, + of course. You're well now, Mr. Bangs, and good health makes such a + difference. You will enjoy your work more than ever.” + </p> + <p> + “Will I? I don't believe I shall. That is very odd, I know, but I think it + is true. I have been thinking about it a great deal of late and—ah—I—well, + you know, I am very sure I shall be lonely.” + </p> + <p> + “Lonely? You! Lonesome over in Egypt, after all you've told me about your + lovin' it so, Mr. Bangs! Lonesome for what, for mercy sakes?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, for—for the Cape, you know; and this house and this pleasant + room and—and the kindness which has been shown me here.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't. What do what you call kindnesses amount to—the little things + Primmie and I have been able to do for you—what do they amount to + compared to what you did for me? I shouldn't be in this house, I shouldn't + own it, if it wasn't for the interest you took and the trouble you went + to. Lonesome! I think I'M goin' to be the real lonesome one this winter. + Since you've been livin' here, Mr. Bangs, I've had a chance to talk of + somethin' beside the little two-for-a-cent things that most of us Gould's + Bluffs people have to talk about from December to June. I've had the + chance to talk about somethin' besides Primmie's foolishness or Cap'n + Jethro's 'spirits,' or the post office gossip. It has been wonderful for + me. When father was alive no gale that ever blew could keep him from + trampin' up to the office after his mornin' paper. He used to say that + readin' the paper was the only way he could keep enough canvas drawing to + pull him out of the doldrums. More of his sea talk, that was, of course, + but you understand what he meant.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha understood. “We all have our—ah—doldrums,” he + observed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, seems as if we did. But, there!” briskly picking up her knitting, “I + don't know as it does us much good to sit and talk about 'em. Primmie had + a book around here last week, an old thing, one of Mrs. Southworth's it + was; Primmie borrowed it somewhere. I looked it over one afternoon, that + was as much as I wanted to do with it, and I remember there was an old + woman in it who seemed to spend most of her time dreamin' of her 'vanished + past.' She seemed to worry over that vanished past a good deal, but, so + far as I could see, she didn't gain much by it. She might have done some + plain sewin' and gained more. I can't see that you and I gain much by + sittin' here and frettin' about next winter, Mr. Bangs. I suppose when + winter is really here you will be trottin' around Egypt on a camel, or + some sort of menagerie animal, and I shall be sweepin' and dustin' and + makin' pies. And we both will be too busy to remember we're lonesome at + all. I—Yes, Primmie, what is it?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Cash's head and shoulders appeared between the door and the jamb. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Martha,” she whispered, hoarsely, “there's somebody come to see + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Come to see me? Who is it; Cap'n Jethro?” + </p> + <p> + “No'm. It's Raish—I mean Mr. Pulcifer. And,” confidentially, “he + won't tell what he's come for, neither.” + </p> + <p> + “And I presume likely you asked him that very thing. Well, bring him into + the dinin' room and tell him I'll be right there. Humph!” she added, after + Primmie had departed, “I wonder what Raish Pulcifer wants to see me about. + I can't imagine, but I guess it isn't likely to be very important. I'll be + back in a few minutes, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + It was, however, a full half hour before she re-entered the sitting room, + and when she did so there was a puzzled expression on her face. + </p> + <p> + “Now, that's funny,” she observed, musingly; “that certainly is funny. + What is he drivin' at, I wonder?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Pulcifer?” inquired Galusha. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes. He didn't say so in so many words; in fact, he didn't really + say much of anything right out. He wouldn't be Raish Pulcifer if he was + straight and plain. He talked about the weather and how he hadn't seen me + for some time and just thought he'd call, and so on. That was just + greasin' the ways for the launchin', as father would have said. He edged + around and edged around and finally brought up the thing I'm pretty sure + he came to see me about, my two hundred and fifty shares of Wellmouth + Development Company stock.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha caught his breath. “Eh?” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I think he came to see me about just those shares. Of course, he + thinks I've still got them. He talked about his own shares and about the + company in general and how it wasn't likely to amount to much and—oh, + well, never mind; he talked a mile before he gained a foot. But I think, + Mr. Bangs, I THINK he came to see if I would sell him that stock of mine, + and, if I would, what I would sell it for. Considerin' that only a little + while ago he told you he wouldn't touch the Wellmouth Development stock + with a ten-foot pole, that's kind of funny, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <p> + Galusha had some difficulty in falling asleep that night. The habit of + dropping into a peaceful and dreamless slumber within five minutes after + blowing out his lamp, a habit which had been his for the past month, was + broken. He had almost succeeded in forgetting the Wellmouth Development + Company. His distress of mind and conscience concerning his dealings with + it had very nearly vanished also. He had been forced into deceit to save + Martha Phipps from great trouble, and the end justified the means. Having + reached that conclusion in his thinking, he had firmly resolved to put the + whole matter from his mind. + </p> + <p> + His one plunge into the pool of finance he had come to believe destined + never to be revealed. No one had mentioned the Development Company or its + stock for weeks. It was, apparently, dead and satisfactorily buried, and + the Bangs' secret was entombed with it. + </p> + <p> + And now, if Martha's surmise was correct, here was a “resurrection man,” + in the person of Mr. Horatio Pulcifer, hanging about the cemetery. The + capacity for hating was not in Galusha's make-up. He found it difficult to + dislike any one strongly. But he could come nearer to disliking Raish + Pulcifer than any one else, and now to dislike was added resentment. Why + in the world should this Pulcifer person interfere with his peace of mind? + </p> + <p> + In the morning, and with the bright September sunshine streaming into the + room, his disquietude of the previous night seemed rather foolish. No + doubt Miss Martha had been mistaken; perhaps Horatio had not had any idea + of buying her shares. Martha herself seemed a little doubtful. + </p> + <p> + “I've been thinkin' it over,” she said, “and I wonder if I just imagined + that's what he was after. It seems almost as if I must have. I can't think + of any sensible reason why a man who was so dreadfully anxious to sell, + and only a little while ago, should be wantin' to buy now. Perhaps he + didn't mean anything of the kind.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha comforted himself with the thought that this was, in all + probability, the truth: Miss Martha had misinterpreted the Pulcifer + purpose; Raish had not meant anything of the kind. + </p> + <p> + But the comfort was short-lived. A few days later Doctor Powers called at + the Phipps' home. After he had gone Martha came to the sitting room, where + her lodger was reading the paper, and, closing the door behind her, said: + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bangs, I guess I was right, after all. Raish Pulcifer WAS hintin' at + buyin' my Wellmouth Development stock.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha dropped the paper in his lap. “Oh, dear! I—I mean, dear me!” + he observed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I guess there isn't much doubt of it. Doctor Powers came here to + tell me that he had sold his shares to him and that Eben Snow and Jim + Henry Willis have sold theirs in the same place. He says he doesn't know + for certain, but he thinks Raish has bought out all the little + stockholders. He's been quietly buyin' the Development stock for the last + week.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs took off his spectacles and put them on again. + </p> + <p> + “Good gracious!” he stammered. + </p> + <p> + “That's what Doctor Powers says. He stopped in, just as an old friend, to + drop the hint to me, so that I could be ready when Raish came to buy mine. + I asked him what the Pulcifer man was payin' for the stock. He said as + little as he had to, as near as he could find out. Of course, no one was + supposed to tell a word about it—Raish had asked 'em not to do that—but + SOMEBODY told, and then it all began to come out. As a matter of fact, you + might as well ask water to run up hill as to ask Jim Willis to keep quiet + about his own business or keep out of any one else's. The price paid, so + the doctor says he's heard, runs all the way from eight dollars a share up + to fourteen and a half. Poor old Mrs. Badger—Darius Badger's widow—got + the eight dollars. She was somethin' like me, I guess—had given up + the idea of ever gettin' a cent—and so she took the first offer + Raish made her. Eben Snow got the fourteen and a half, I believe, the + highest price. He needed it less than anybody else, which is usually the + way. Doctor Powers sold his for twelve and a half. Said he thought, when + he was doin' it, that he was mighty lucky. Now he wishes he hadn't sold at + all, but had waited. 'Don't sell yours for a penny less than fifteen, + Martha,' he told me. 'There's somethin' up. Either Raish has heard + somethin' and is buyin' for a speculation, or else he's actin' as somebody + else's agent.' What did you say, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha had not said anything; and what he said now was neither brilliant + nor original. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me, dear me!” he murmured. Martha looked at him, keenly. + </p> + <p> + “Why, what is it, Mr. Bangs?” she asked. “Raish's buyin' the stock won't + make any difference to you, will it?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?... To ME? Why—why, of course not. Dear me, no. Why—ah—how + could it make any difference to me?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't mean you, yourself. I meant to the Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot + people, or whoever it was that bought my stock.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh—oh, oh! To them? Oh, yes, yes! I thought for the moment you + referred to me personally. Ha, ha! That would have been very—ah—funny, + wouldn't it? No, I don't think it will make any difference to Cousin—ah—I + mean to the purchasers of your shares. No, no, indeed—ah—yes. + Quite so.” + </p> + <p> + If Miss Phipps noticed a slight incoherence in this speech, she did not + comment upon it. Galusha blinked behind his spectacles and passed a hand + across his forehead. His landlady continued her story. + </p> + <p> + “I asked Doctor Powers what reason Raish was givin' people for his buyin'. + The doctor said he gave reasons enough, but they weren't very satisfyin' + ones to a thinkin' person. Raish said he owned a big block of the stock + himself and yet it wasn't big enough to give him much say as to what + should be done with the company. Of course, nothin' could be done with it + at present, but still some time there might and so he thought he might as + well be hung for an old sheep as a lamb and buy in what he could get, + provided he could get it cheap enough. He had come to the doctor first, he + said. Ha, ha! That was kind of funny.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?... Oh, yes, certainly.... Of course.” + </p> + <p> + “But I haven't told you yet why it was funny. It seems he told every + person he went to that he or she was the first. Doctor Powers prides + himself on bein' a pretty good business man and I guess it provoked him to + find that Raish had fooled him into takin' a lower price than some of the + rest got. He said as much to me. He said that he agreed with what Raish + said, that about he might as well be hung for an old sheep as a lamb. So + long as he WAS hung, so the doctor said, he didn't care what it was for.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed again and her lodger smiled, although rather feebly. He + murmured that it was very amusing. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, wasn't it?” said Martha. “Well, the doctor was very anxious that I + should not sell at a cent less than fifteen dollars a share. I wonder what + he, or Raish Pulcifer either, would say if they knew I HAD sold already, + and for as much as father paid, too. Oh, I wonder if Raish has been to see + Cap'n Jeth yet. He won't buy HIS shares for any eight dollars a piece, he + can be sure of that.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha nodded; he was sure of it, too. + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Martha, ending the conversation for the time, “why do you + suppose Raish is buyin' at all? What is goin' on, anyway?” + </p> + <p> + She was by no means the only one who was asking that question. Three days + later Captain Jethro asked Galusha the same thing. They met in the lane + leading to the village and the light keeper approached the subject without + preamble. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Mr. Bangs,” he demanded, “what's Raish Pulcifer cal'late he's + doin'?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha smiled. “I thank you for the compliment, Captain Hallett,” he + said, “but my intuition cannot keep pace with Mr. Pulcifer's—ah—calculations. + No, indeed.” + </p> + <p> + Jethro pulled his beard. “I asked you,” he said, solemnly, “what Raish + Pulcifer cal'lated he was doin' buyin' up Development stock? Do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Is he buying it?” + </p> + <p> + “If you ain't heard that he is, you're about the only one in East + Wellmouth. Ain't you heard it?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha would have liked to change the subject, but with Jethro Hallett + that was not an easy task, as he knew from experience. He did not + immediately make the attempt. + </p> + <p> + “Why—ah—yes,” he admitted. “I have heard that he has bought—ah—some.” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Who told you; Martha?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why—really, Captain, I don't know that I ought—You'll + pardon me, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Been tryin' to buy Martha's, has he?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha sighed. “Have you noticed,” he suggested, “what a remarkable view + one gets from this point? The village and the bay in front, and, in the + rear, the—ah—light and the—ah—rest. Quite + remarkable, don't you think so, Captain?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Jethro looked gravely at the view. + </p> + <p> + “Raish been to see Martha about buyin' her stock, has he?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Galusha rubbed his chin. “I have often wondered,” he said, “why no summer + cottage has been built just here. The spot would seem to possess very + marked advantages. Very—ah—very much so.” + </p> + <p> + The light keeper cleared his throat. “Zach said he see Raish comin' out of + your gate t'other day,” he said. “Been to see Martha about her shares + then, had he?” + </p> + <p> + “The—ah—proximity to the main road is an advantage in + particular,” Galusha continued. “One would be near it and yet, so to + speak, secluded from it. Really, a very exceptional spot, Captain + Hallett.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Jethro stroked his beard, frowned, and gazed steadily at the face + of the little archaeologist. Galusha gazed serenely and with a pleased + interest at the view. After a moment the light keeper said: “He's been + after mine, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?... Oh, indeed? You mean—” + </p> + <p> + “I mean Raish Pulcifer's been tryin' to buy my Development stock same as + he has Martha's. Hey? What say?” + </p> + <p> + “I said nothing, Captain. Not a word, really” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!... Well, he's been tryin' to buy mine, anyway. And, nigh's as I + can find out, he's bought every loose share there is. All hands are + talkin' about it now; some of 'em are wonderin' if they hadn't better have + hung on. Eben Snow came to me this mornin' and he says, 'I don't know + whether I did right to let go of that stock of mine or not,' he says. + 'What do you think, Jeth?' I haven't got much use for Eben, and ain't had + for years; I went to sea with him one v'yage and that generally tells a + man's story. I've seen him at church sociables—in the days when I + wasted my time goin' to such things—spend as much as five minutes + decidin' whether to take a doughnut or a piece of pie. He couldn't eat + both, but he was afraid whichever he took the other might turn out to be + better. So when he asked me my opinion about his sellin' his Development, + I gave it to him. 'You've been wantin' to sell, ain't you?' says I. 'I've + heard you whinin' around for months because you couldn't sell. Now you + HAVE sold. What more do you want?' He got mad. 'You ain't sold YOUR + holdin's at any fourteen dollars a share, have you?' he says. I told him I + hadn't. 'No, and I'll bet you won't, either,' says he. I told him he'd + make money if he could get somebody to take the bet. Humph! the swab!” + </p> + <p> + For the first time Galusha asked a direct question. + </p> + <p> + “Did—ah—Mr. Pulcifer actually—ah—bid for your + Development shares, Captain Hallett?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he come as nigh to doin' it as I'd let him. Hinted maybe that he'd + give me as much as he did Snow, fourteen fifty. I laughed at him. I asked + him what made him so reckless, when, the last time he and I talked, he was + tryin' to sell me his own shares for ten. And now he wanted to buy mine at + fourteen and a half!” + </p> + <p> + “And—ah—what reason did he give for his change of heart? Or + didn't he give any?” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Yes, he gave a shipload of reasons, but there wouldn't any one of + 'em float if 'twas hove overboard. He ain't buyin' on his own account, + that I KNOW.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh—ah—do you, indeed. May I ask why you are so certain?” + </p> + <p> + “For two reasons. First, because Raish ain't got money enough of his own + to do any such thing. Second, and the main reason why I know he ain't + buyin' for himself is because he says he is. Anybody that knows Raish + knows that's reason enough.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha ventured one more question. + </p> + <p> + “When he—ah—approached you, did you—that is, what excuse + did you give him for—for your lack of interest, so to speak?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? I didn't give him any. And I didn't tell him I wasn't interested. I + am interested—to see how far he'll go. I sha'n't tell him I've sold + already, Mr. Bangs; your Boston friends needn't worry about that. When I + sign articles I stick to my contract.” + </p> + <p> + They had reached the Phipps' gate by this time and there they parted. The + light keeper strode off, rolling heavily, his beard blowing across his + shoulder. He had been, for him, remarkably good-humored and talkative. + Galusha was inclined to attribute the good humor to the fact that Captain + Jethro considered he had made a good bargain in selling his own shares at + a price so much higher than that obtained by Snow and the rest. The next + time they conversed the good humor was not as apparent. But that occasion + was almost a fortnight later. + </p> + <p> + And, meantime, Mr. Pulcifer had become the center of interest in East + Wellmouth and its neighborhood. An important figure he always was, + particularly in his own estimation, but now the spotlight of publicity + which beat upon his ample figure had in its rays the blue tinge of + mystery. The question which all Wellmouth was asking was that which + Captain Jethro had asked Mr. Bangs: “What is Raish up to now?” + </p> + <p> + And Mr. Pulcifer firmly refused to answer that question. Or, to be more + exact, he always answered it, but the answers were not considered + convincing. Some pretended to be satisfied with his offhand declaration + that he “had a little chunk of the stock and just presumed likely I might + as well have a little more. Ain't nothin' to make a fuss about, anyhow.” A + few pretended to accept this explanation as bona fide, but the remainder, + the majority, received it with open incredulity. + </p> + <p> + The oddest part of it all was the fact that the great Horatio appeared to + dislike the prominent position which his activities held in the community + mind. Ordinarily prominence had been the delight of his soul. In every + political campaign, wherever the limelight shone brightest there had + strutted Mr. Pulcifer, cigar in mouth, hat over one eye, serene + self-satisfaction in the possession of mysterious knowledge radiating from + his person. He loved that sort of thing; to be the possessor of “inside + information,” however slight, or even to be popularly supposed to possess + it, had hitherto been the meat upon which this, Wellmouth's, Caesar, fed + and grew great. + </p> + <p> + But Raish was not enjoying this particular meal. And his attitude was not + pretense, either; it was obvious that the more East Wellmouth discussed + his buying the Development stock the less he liked it. When his fellow + townsmen questioned him he grew peevish. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, forget it!” he exclaimed to one of the unfortunate who came seeking + information. “You make me tired, Jim Fletcher, you and Ras Beebe and the + whole gang. By cripes, a feller can't as much as take a five cent cigar + out of his pocket without all hands tryin' to make a—a molehill out + of it. Forget it, I tell you!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Fletcher was a simple soul, decidedly not one of East Wellmouth's + intellectual aristocracy, but he was persistent. + </p> + <p> + “Aw, hold on, Raish,” he expostulated, “I never said a word about your + takin' a five cent cigar out of your pocket.... Er—er—you + ain't taken one out, have you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, and I ain't goin' to—not now.” + </p> + <p> + “All right—all right. <i>I</i> never asked you. All I said was—” + </p> + <p> + “I know what you said.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, you don't neither. You're all mixed up. Nobody's said anything + about cigars, or makin'—er—er—What was it you said they + made?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothin', nothin'. A molehill is what I said.” + </p> + <p> + “What kind of a hill?” + </p> + <p> + “A molehill. Didn't you ever hear of a ground mole, for heaven sakes?” + </p> + <p> + “Course I've heard of a ground mole! But what's a ground mole got to do + with a cigar, I want to know? And you said a moleHILL. What's a ground + mole doin' up on a hill?” + </p> + <p> + “Not up ON one—IN one. A molehill is what a ground mole lives in, + ain't it? It's just a sayin'.... Oh, never mind! Go on! Take a walk.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</i> don't want to walk. And a ground mole lives in a hole, not a + hill, like a—like a ant. You know that as well as I do. And, anyhow, + nobody said anything about ground moles, or—or mud turtles neither, + far's that goes. No, nor five cent cigars. Now, Raish, I'll tell you what + they're sayin'; they say—” + </p> + <p> + “And I'll tell YOU! Listen! Listen, now, because this is the last time + I'll tell anybody anything except to go—” + </p> + <p> + “Sshh, shh, Raish! Alvira's right in the kitchen and the window's open.... + No, 'tain't, it's shut. Where will they go?” + </p> + <p> + “Listen, you! I've bought those few extra shares of Development because I + had some myself and thought I might as well have a few more. I bought 'em + and I paid for 'em. Nobody says I ain't paid for 'em, do they?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no. Don't anybody say that. All they say IS—” + </p> + <p> + “Be still! Now I bought those shares. What of it? It's my business, ain't + it? Yes. And I haven't bought any more. You can tell 'em that: I HAVEN'T + BOUGHT ANY MORE.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, all right, Raish, all right. I'll tell 'em you ain't. But—” + </p> + <p> + “That's all. Now forget it! For-GET it!” + </p> + <p> + Which should, perhaps, have been sufficient and convincing. But there were + still some unconvinced. For example, Martha happened to meet one morning, + while on an errand in the village, the president of the Denboro Trust + Company. He explained that he had motored over, having a little matter of + personal business to attend to. + </p> + <p> + “I haven't seen you for some time, Miss Phipps,” he observed. “Not since + our—er—little talk about the Wellmouth Development stock. That + was the last time, wasn't it?” + </p> + <p> + Martha said that it was. He lowered his voice a very little and asked, + casually: “Still holding on to your two hundred and fifty shares, are + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, that was what you told me to do, wasn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes. I believe it was. Humph! Just so, yes. So you've still got + those shares?” + </p> + <p> + Martha smiled. “I haven't sold 'em to Raish Pulcifer, if that's what + you're hintin' at,” she said. + </p> + <p> + He seemed a bit embarrassed. “Well,” he admitted, with a laugh, “I guess + I'll have to own that I did mean that. There seems to be a good many who + have sold to Pulcifer. All the little fellows, the small holders. You + haven't, you say?” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't sold a share to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Neither has Cap'n Jeth Hallett; he told me so just now.... Hum!... + What is Raish buying for? What's the reason he's buying? Have you heard?” + </p> + <p> + “I've heard what he's told other folks; that's all I know about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum.... Yes, yes. Well, here's my advice, Miss Phipps: If I were you—if + I were you, I say, and he came to me and wanted to buy, I shouldn't be in + too big a hurry to sell. Not in too big a hurry, I shouldn't.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + He glanced at her quickly. “Oh, he HAS been to see you about buying your + shares, then?” he suggested. + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. “I didn't say he had,” she replied. “I just asked why + I shouldn't sell if he wanted to buy, that's all. Why shouldn't I?” + </p> + <p> + He seemed more embarrassed and a trifle irritated. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why—Oh, well, I suppose you should, perhaps, if he offers + you enough. But I wish you wouldn't until—until—Well, couldn't + you let me know before you give him his answer? Would you mind doing + that?” + </p> + <p> + And now she looked keenly at him. “What would I gain by that?” she asked. + “YOU aren't thinkin' of buyin' more of that stock, are you? The other time + when we talked, you told me the Trust Company had all they cared to own + and were keepin' it because they had to. I would have been glad—yes, + awfully glad, to sell you my shares. But you wouldn't even consider + buyin'. Do you want to buy now?” + </p> + <p> + He frowned. “I don't know what I want,” he said, impatiently. “Except that + the one thing we want to find out is why Pulcifer is buying. The Trust + Company holds a big block of that stock and—and if there is anything + up we want to know of it.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by 'anything up'?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I mean if some other people are trying to get—er—into the + thing. Of course, it isn't likely, but—” + </p> + <p> + He did not finish the sentence. She asked another question. + </p> + <p> + “Has Raish been to see you about buyin' the Trust Company stock?” she + asked. + </p> + <p> + “No. He hasn't been near us.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he would if you told him you wanted to sell.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know that we do want to sell. That's a pretty good piece of + property over there and some day—Ahem! Oh, well, never mind. But I + wish you would let us know before you sell Pulcifer your holdings. It + might—I can't say positively, you know—but it MIGHT be worth + your while.” + </p> + <p> + Martha, of course, made no promise, but she thought a good deal during her + walk homeward. She told her lodger of the talk with the Trust Company + official, and he thought a good deal, also. + </p> + <p> + His thoughts, however, dealt not with the possible rise in value of the + six hundred and fifty shares which, endorsed in blank, reposed, + presumably, somewhere in the vaults of Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot. He + thought not at all of anything like that. He had gotten rid of those + certificates and hoped never to hear of them again. But now, with all this + stir and talk, there was distinct danger that not only he but others might + hear of them. Galusha Bangs and Raish Pulcifer had, just now, one trait in + common, both detested the publicity given their dealings in the securities + of the Wellmouth Development Company. + </p> + <p> + But, in spite of this detestation, Horatio still seemed anxious to deal in + those securities. He visited the Phipps' home twice that week, both times + after dark and, as the watchful Primmie observed and commented upon, each + time coming not by the lane, but across the fields. And when he left, at + the termination of his second visit, the expression upon his face was by + no means one of triumph. + </p> + <p> + And Martha, of course, told her lodger what had transpired. + </p> + <p> + “I declare,” she said, after her caller had gone, “I shall really begin to + believe somethin' IS up in that Development Company, just as the Trust + Company man said. Raish certainly wants to buy the two hundred and fifty + shares he thinks I've got. This is the third time he's been to see me, + sneakin' across lots in the dark so nobody else would see him, and each + time he raised his bid. He got up to eighteen dollars a share to-night. + And, I do believe, if I had given him the least bit of encouragement, he + would have gone higher still. What do you think of that, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha did not know what to think of it; he found it extremely unpleasant + to think of it at all. + </p> + <p> + “Have you—ah—have you told him you do not intend selling?” he + asked. + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, I haven't. You see, if I do he'll think it's awfully queer, + because he knows how anxious I was, a while ago, TO sell. I just keep + puttin' him off. Pretty soon I suppose I shall HAVE to tell him I won't + sell no matter what he offers; but we'll try the puttin' off as long as + possible.” She paused, and then added, with a mischievous twinkle, + “Really, Mr. Bangs, I am gettin' a good deal of fun out of it. A few + months ago I was the one to go to him and talk about that stock. Now he + comes to me and I'm just as high and mighty as he ever was, you can be + sure of that. 'Well, Raish,' I said to him to-night, 'I don't know that I + am very much interested. If the stock is worth that to you, I presume + likely it's worth it to me.' Ha, ha! Oh, dear! you should have seen him + squirm. He keeps tryin' to be buttery and sweet, but his real feelin's + come out sometimes. For instance, to-night his spite got a little too much + for him and he said: 'Humph!' he said, 'somebody must have willed you + money lately, Martha. Either that or keepin' boarders must pay pretty + well.' 'Yes,' said I, 'it does. The cost of livin is comin' down all the + time.' Oh, I'm havin' a beautiful game of tit-for-tat with Raish.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed merrily. Galusha did not laugh. The game was altogether too + risky for him to enjoy it. A person sitting on a powder barrel could + scarcely be expected to enjoy the sight of a group of children playing + with matches in close proximity. An explosion, sooner or later, might be + considered certain. But the children continued to play and day after day + went by, and no blow-up took place. Galusha sat upon his barrel pondering + apprehensively and—waiting. There were times when, facing what + seemed the inevitable, he found himself almost longing for the promised + summons from the Institute. An expedition to the wilds of—of almost + anywhere, provided it was remote enough—offered at least a means of + escape. But, to offset this, was the knowledge that escape by flight + involved giving up East Wellmouth and all it had come to mean to him. Of + course, he would be obliged to give it up some day and, in all + probability, soon—but—well, he simply could not bring himself + to the point of hastening the separation. So he shifted from the powder + barrel to the sharp horn of the other dilemma and shifted back again. Both + seats were most uncomfortable. The idea that there was an element of + absurdity in his self-imposed martyrdom and that, after all, what he had + done might be considered by the majority as commendable rather than + criminal, did not occur to him at all. He would not have been Galusha + Cabot Bangs if it had. + </p> + <p> + He meditated much and Primmie, always on the lookout for new symptoms, + noticed the meditations. When Primmie noticed a thing she never hesitated + to ask questions concerning it. She was dusting the sitting room one + morning and he was sitting by the window looking out. + </p> + <p> + “You're thinkin' again, ain't you, Mr. Bangs?” observed Primmie. + </p> + <p> + Galusha started. “Eh?” he queried. “Thinking? Oh, yes—yes!—I + suppose I was thinking, Primmie. I—ah—sometimes do.” + </p> + <p> + “You 'most always do. I never see anybody think as much as you do, Mr. + Bangs. Never in my born days I never. And lately—my savin' soul! + Seems as if you didn't do nothin' BUT think lately. Just set around and + think and twiddle that thing on your watch chain.” + </p> + <p> + The thing on the watch chain was a rather odd charm which Mr. Bangs had + possessed for many years. “Twiddling” it was a habit of his. In fact, he + had twiddled it so much that the pivot upon which it had hung broke and + Martha had insisted upon his sending the charm to Boston for repairs. It + had recently been returned. + </p> + <p> + “What is that thing, Mr. Bangs?” asked Primmie. “I was lookin' at it + t'other day when you left your watch chain layin' out in the sink.” + </p> + <p> + “In the sink? You mean BY the sink, don't you, Primmie?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don't, I mean IN it. You'd forgot your watch and Miss Martha she + sent me up to your room after it. I fetched it down to you and you and her + was talkin' in the kitchen and you was washin' your hands in the sink + basin. Don't you remember you was?” + </p> + <p> + “Was I? I—I presume I was if you say so. Really I—I have + forgotten.” + </p> + <p> + “Course you have. And you forgot your watch, too. Left it layin' right + alongside that tin washbasin full of soapsuds. 'Twas a mercy you didn't + empty out the suds on top of it. Well, I snaked it out of the sink and + chased out the door to give it to you and you was halfway to the + lighthouse and I couldn't make you hear to save my soul. 'Twas then I + noticed that charm thing. That's an awful funny kind of thing, Mr. Bangs. + There's a—a bug on it, ain't there?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—ah—yes, Primmie. That charm is a very old scarab.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? A what? I told Miss Martha it looked for all the world like a + pertater bug.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha smiled. He held out the charm for her inspection. + </p> + <p> + “I have had that for a long time,” he said. “It is a—ah—souvenir + of my first Egyptian expedition. The scarab is a rather rare example. I + found it myself at Saqqarah, in a tomb. It is a scarab of the Vth + Dynasty.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? Die—what?” + </p> + <p> + “The Vth Dynasty; that is the way we classify Egyptian—ah—relics, + by dynasties, you know. The Vth Dynasty was about six thousand years ago.” + </p> + <p> + Primmie sat down upon the chair she had been dusting. + </p> + <p> + “Hey?” she exclaimed. “My Lord of Isrul! Is that bug thing there six + thousand year old?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “My savin' soul! WHAT kind of a bug did you say 'twas?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I don't know that I did say. It is a representation of an Egyptian + beetle, Ateuchus Sacer, you know. The ancient Egyptians worshiped the + beetle and so they—” + </p> + <p> + “Wait! Wait a minute, Mr. Bangs. WHAT did you say they done to it?” + </p> + <p> + “I said they worshiped it, made a god of it, you understand.” + </p> + <p> + “A god! Out of a—a pertater bug! Go long, Mr. Bangs! You're foolin', + ain't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me, no! It's quite true, Primmie, really. The ancient Egyptians had + many gods, some like human beings, some in the forms of animals. The + goddess Hathor, for example, was the goddess of the dead and is always + represented in the shape of a cow.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh! A cow! Do you mean to sit there and tell me them folks—er—er—went + to church meetin' and—and flopped down and said their prayers to a + COW?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha smiled. “Why, yes,” he said, “I presume you might call it that. + And another god of theirs had the head of a hawk—the bird, you know. + The cat, too, was a very sacred animal. And, as I say, the beetle, like + the one represented here, was—” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on, Mr. Bangs! HO-OLD on! Don't say no more to me NOW. Let me kind + of—of settle my stomach, as you might say, 'fore you fetch any more + onto the table. Worshipin' cows and—and henhawks and—and cats + and bugs and—and hoptoads and clams, for what <i>I</i> know! My + savin' soul! What made 'em do it? What did they do it FOR? Was they all + crazy?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, it was the custom of their race and time.” + </p> + <p> + “WELL!” with a heartfelt sigh, “I'm glad times have changed, that's all + I've got to say. Goin' to cow meetin' would be too much for ME! Mr. Bangs, + where did you get that bug thing?” + </p> + <p> + “I found it at a place called Saqqarah, in Egypt. It was in a tomb there.” + </p> + <p> + “A tomb! What was you doin' in a tomb, for the land sakes?” + </p> + <p> + “I was opening it, looking for mummies and carvings, statues, relics, + anything of the kind I might find. This scarab was in a ring on the finger + of the mummy of a woman. She was the wife of an officer in the royal + court. The mummy case was excellently preserved and when the mummy itself + was unwrapped—” + </p> + <p> + “Wait a minute! Hold on just another minute, won't you, Mr. Bangs? You're + always talkin' about mummies. A mummy is a—a kind of an image, ain't + it? I've seen pictures of 'em in them printed report things you get from + that Washin'ton place. An image with funny scrabblin' and pictures, kind + of, all over it. That's a mummy, ain't it, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, not exactly, Primmie. A mummy is—” + </p> + <p> + He proceeded to tell her much concerning mummies. From that he went on to + describe the finding of the particular mummy from whose finger the scarab + had been taken. Miss Cash listened, her mouth and eyes opening wider and + wider. She appeared to be slowly stiffening in her chair. Galusha, growing + interested in his own story, was waxing almost eloquent, when he was + interrupted by a gasp from his listener. She was staring at him, her face + expressing the utmost horror. + </p> + <p> + “Why, dear me, Primmie, what is it?” he begged. + </p> + <p> + Primmie gasped again. “And you set there,” she said, slowly, “and tell me + that you hauled that poor critter that had been buried six thousand years + out of—of—My Lord of Isrul! Don't talk no more to me now, Mr. + Bangs. I sha'n't sleep none THIS night!” She marched to the door and + there, turning, looked at him in awe-stricken amazement. + </p> + <p> + “And to think,” she said, slowly, “that I always cal'lated you was meek + and gentle and—and all like that—as Moses's grandmother. WELL, + it just shows you can't tell much by a person's LOOKS. Haulin' 'em out of + their graves and—and unwrappin' 'em like—like bundles, and + cartin' 'em off to museums. And thinkin' no more of it than I would of—of + scalin' a flatfish. My savin' soul!” + </p> + <p> + She breathed heavily once more and departed. That evening she came to her + mistress with a new hint concerning the reason for the Bangs' + absent-mindedness. + </p> + <p> + “It's his conscience,” she declared. “He's broodin', that's what he's + doin'. Broodin' and broodin' over them poor remains in the showcases in + the museums. He may be a good man; I don't say he ain't. He's just lovely + NOW, and that's why his conscience keeps a-broodin', poor thing. Oh, I + know what I'm talkin' about, Miss Martha. You ask him some time where he + got that bug thing—a Arab, he calls it—that he wears on his + watch chain. Just ask him. You'll hear somethin' THEN, I bet you! Whew!” + </p> + <p> + Galusha found considerable amusement in talks like those. Primmie was a + distinct relief, for she never mentioned the troublesome Development + Company. Talk in the village concerning it was dying down and Mr. + Pulcifer's assertion that he had bought only the shares of the small + holders was becoming more generally believed. But in the Gould's Bluffs + settlement this belief was scoffed at. Captain Jeth Hallett told Galusha + the truth and his statement was merely a confirmation of Martha Phipps'. + </p> + <p> + “Raish is hotfoot after that stock of mine,” growled the light keeper. + “He's 'round to see me every day or two. Don't hint any more neither; + comes right out and bids for it. He's got to as high as nineteen a share + now. And he'd go higher, too. HOW far he'll go I don't know, but I + cal'late I'll keep him stringin' along till I find out.” + </p> + <p> + He pulled at his beard for a moment and then added: + </p> + <p> + “It's plain enough, of course, that Raish is agent for somebody that wants + to buy in that stock. Who 'tis, though, I can't guess. It ain't your + Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot crowd, Mr. Bangs. That's plain enough, too.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha tried to look innocently interested. + </p> + <p> + “Oh—ah—yes,” he said. “Is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Sartin 'tis. THEY wouldn't need to be sendin' anybody to buy my shares, + would they? They've bought 'em already. The whole thing is queer. Look + here! Why should anybody be chasin' ME for those shares? Why don't they + get a list of stockholders from the books? Those transfer books ought to + show that I've sold, hadn't they? They would, too, if any transfer had + been made. There ain't been any made, that's all the answer I can think + of. I signed those certificates of mine in blank, transferred 'em in blank + on the back. And somebody—whoever 'twas bought 'em—ain't + turned 'em in for new ones in their own name, but have left 'em just the + way they got 'em. That's why Raish and his crowd think I've still got my + stock. Now ain't that funny, Mr. Bangs? Ain't that strange?” + </p> + <p> + It was not at all funny to Galusha. Nor strange. The light keeper tugged + at his beard and his shaggy brows drew together. “I don't know's I did + right to let go of that stock of mine, after all,” he said, slowly. “Don't + know as I did, no.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha asked him why. + </p> + <p> + “Because I don't know as I did, that's all. If I'd hung on I might have + got more for it. Looks to me as if Raish's crowd, whoever they are, are + mighty anxious to buy. And the Denboro Trust Company folks might bid + against 'em if 'twas necessary. They've got too much of that stock to let + themselves be froze out. Humph!... Humph! I ain't sure as I did right.” + </p> + <p> + “But—but you did get a profit, Captain Hallett. The profit you—ah—expected.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! I got a profit, but how do I know 'twas the profit Julia meant? I + ought to have gone and asked her afore I sold, that's what I ought to have + done, I cal'late.” + </p> + <p> + He frowned heavily and added, in a tone of gloomy doubt: “I presume likely + I've been neglectin' things—things like that, lately, and that's why + punishments are laid onto me. I suppose likely that's it.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha, of course, did not understand, but as the captain seemed to + expect him to make some remark, he said: “Oh—ah—dear me! + Indeed? Ah—punishments?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I don't know what else they are. When your own flesh and blood—” + He stopped in the middle of his sentence, sighed, and added: “Well, never + mind. But I need counsel, Mr. Bangs, counsel.” + </p> + <p> + Again Galusha scarcely knew what to say. + </p> + <p> + “Why—ah—Captain Hallett,” he stammered, “I doubt if my advice + would be worth much, really, but such as it is I assure you it—” + </p> + <p> + Captain Jethro interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “Counsel from this earth won't help me any, Mr. Bangs,” he declared. “It's + higher counsel that I need. Um-hm, higher.” + </p> + <p> + He walked away without saying more. Galusha wondered what had set him off + upon that tack. That afternoon, while in the village, he met Nelson Howard + and the latter furnished an explanation. It seemed that the young man had + been to see Captain Jethro, had dared to call at the light with the + deliberate intention of seeing and interviewing him on the subject of his + daughter. The interview had not been long, nor as stormy as Nelson + anticipated; but neither had it been satisfactory. + </p> + <p> + “It's those confounded 'spirits' that are rocking the boat,” declared + Nelson. “The old man practically said just that. He seems to have gotten + over some of his bitterness against me—perhaps it is, as you say, + Mr. Bangs, because I have a better position now and good prospects. + Perhaps it is that, I don't know. But he still won't consider my marrying + Lulie. He seems to realize that we could marry and that he couldn't stop + us, but I think he realizes, too, that neither Lulie nor I would think of + doing it against his will. 'But why, Cap'n Hallett?' I kept saying. 'WHY? + What is the reason you are so down on me?' And all I could get out of him + was the old stuff about 'revelations' and 'word from above' and all that. + We didn't get much of anywhere. Oh, pshaw! Wouldn't it make you tired? + Say, Mr. Bangs, the last time you and I talked you said you were going to + 'consider' those Marietta Hoag spirits. I don't know what you meant, but + if you could consider some sense into them and into Cap'n Jeth's stubborn + old head, I wish you would.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha smiled and said he would try. “I don't exactly know what I meant, + myself, by considering them,” he admitted. “However, I—ah—doubtless + meant something and I'll try and—ah—consider what it was. It + seems to me that I had a vague thought—not an idea, exactly, but—Well, + perhaps it will come back. I have had a number of—ah—distractions + of late. They have caused me to forget the spirits. I'm very sorry, + really. I must try now and reconsider the considering. Dear me, how + involved I am getting! Never mind, we are going to win yet. Oh, I am sure + of it.” + </p> + <p> + The distractions to which he referred were, of course, the recent and + mysterious machinations of Raish Pulcifer. And he was to be again + distracted that very afternoon. For as, after parting with Howard, he was + walking slowly along the main road, pondering deeply upon the problem + presented by the love affair of his two young friends and its spirit + complications, he was awakened from his reverie by a series of sharp + clicks close at his ear. He started, looked up and about, and saw that he + was directly opposite the business office of the great Horatio. He heard + the clicks again and realized that they were caused by the tapping of the + windowpane by a ring upon a masculine finger. The ring appeared to be—but + was not—a mammoth pigeon-blood ruby and it ornamented, or set off, + the hand of Mr. Pulcifer himself. + </p> + <p> + Galusha stared uncomprehendingly at the hand and ring. Then the hand + beckoned frantically. Mr. Bangs raised his eyes and saw, through the dingy + pane, the face of the owner of the hand. The lower portion of the face was + in eager motion. “Come in,” Mr. Pulcifer was whispering. “Come on in!” + </p> + <p> + Galusha wonderingly entered the office. He had no desire for conversation + with its proprietor, but he was curious to know what the latter wanted. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—good-afternoon, Mr. Pulcifer,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Raish did not answer immediately. His first move was to cross to the door + by which his visitor had entered, close and lock it. His next was to lower + the window shade a trifle. Then he turned and smiled—nay, beamed + upon that visitor. + </p> + <p> + “Set down, set down, Perfessor,” he urged, with great cordiality. “Well, + well, well! It's good to see you again, be hanged if it ain't now! How's + things down to the bluffs? Joggin' along, joggin' along in the same old + rut, the way the feller with the wheelbarrer went to market? Eh? Haw, haw, + haw! Have a cigar, Perfessor?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha declined the cigar. He would also have declined the invitation to + sit, but Mr. Pulcifer would not hear of it. He all but forced his caller + into a chair. + </p> + <p> + “Set down,” he insisted. “Just as cheap settin' as standin' and + consider'ble lighter on shoe leather, as the feller said. Haw, haw! Hey? + Yes, indeed. Er—Have a cigar?” + </p> + <p> + But Galusha was still resolute as far as the cigar was concerned. Raish + lighted one himself and puffed briskly. To a keen observer he might have + appeared a trifle nervous. Galusha was not a particularly keen observer + and, moreover, he was nervous himself. If there had been no other reason, + close proximity to a Raish Pulcifer cigar was, to a sensitive person, + sufficient cause for nervousness. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pulcifer continued to talk and talk and talk, of the weather, of the + profits of the summer season just past, of all sorts of trivialities. Mr. + Bangs' nervousness increased. He fidgeted in his chair. + </p> + <p> + “Really,” he stammered, “I—I fear I must be going. You will excuse + me, I hope, but—ah—I must, really.” + </p> + <p> + Pulcifer held up a protesting hand. It was that holding the cigar and he + waved it slowly back and forth. One of Galusha's experiences had been to + be a passenger aboard a tramp steamer loaded with hides when fire broke + out on board. The hides had smoked tremendously and smelled even more so. + As the dealer in real estate slowly waved his cigar back and forth, + Galusha suddenly remembered this experience. The mental picture was quite + vivid. + </p> + <p> + “Wait, Perfessor,” commanded Horatio. “Throttle her down. Put her into low + just a minute. Say, Perfessor,” he lowered his voice and leaned forward in + his chair: “Say, Perfessor,” he repeated, “do you want to make some + money?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha gazed at him uncomprehendingly. + </p> + <p> + “Why—ah—Dear me!” he faltered. “I—that is—well, + really, I fear I do not fully grasp your—ah—meaning, Mr. + Pulcifer.” + </p> + <p> + Raish seemed to find this amusing. He laughed aloud. “No reason why you + should yet awhile, Perfessor,” he declared. “I'll try to get it across to + you in a minute, though. What I asked was if you wanted to make money. Do, + don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, I don't know. Really, I—” + </p> + <p> + “Go 'way, boy!” derisively. “Go 'way! Don't tell me you don't want money. + Everybody wants it. You and me ain't John D.'s yet, by a consider'ble + sight. Hey? Haw, haw! Anyhow <i>I</i> ain't, and I'll say this for you, + Perfessor, if you are, you don't look it. Haw, haw!” + </p> + <p> + He laughed again. Galusha glanced despairingly at the locked door. Mr. + Pulcifer leaned forward and gesticulated with the cigar just before his + visitor's nose. The visitor leaned backward. + </p> + <p> + “If—if you don't mind,” he said, desperately, “I really wish you + wouldn't.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “Put that thing—that cigar quite so near. If you don't mind.” + </p> + <p> + Raish withdrew the cigar and looked at it and his companion. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, yes; I see!” he said, after a moment. “You object to tobacco, + then?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha drew a relieved breath. “Why—ah—no,” he said, slowly, + “not to—ah—tobacco.” Then he added, hastily: “But, really, Mr. + Pulcifer, I must be going.” + </p> + <p> + Pulcifer pushed him back into the chair again. His tone became brisk and + businesslike. “Hold on, Perfessor,” he said. “You say you want to make + money?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha had not said so, but it seemed scarcely worth while to deny the + assertion. And Raish waited for no denial. “You want to make money,” he + repeated. “All right, so do I. And I've got a scheme that'll help us both + to make a little. Now listen. But before I tell you, you've got to give me + your word to keep it dark; see?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha promised and Raish proceeded to explain his scheme. Briefly it + amounted to this: Galusha Bangs, being a close acquaintance of Martha + Phipps and Jethro Hallett, was to use that acquaintanceship to induce them + to sell their shares in the Development Company. For such an effort, if + successful, on the part of Mr. Bangs, he, Horatio Pulcifer, was prepared + to pay a commission of fifty dollars, twenty-five when he received + Martha's shares and twenty-five when Jethro's were delivered. + </p> + <p> + “There,” he said, in conclusion, “is a chance I'm offerin' you, as a + friend, to clean up fifty good, hard, round dollars. What do you say, old + man?” + </p> + <p> + The “old man”—Galusha winced slightly at the appellation—did + not seem to know what to say. His facial expression might have indicated + any or all of a variety of feelings. At last, he stammered a question. Why + did Mr. Pulcifer wish to obtain the Development stock? This question Raish + would not answer. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” he said. “I do, that's all. And I've got the money to do it + with. I'll pay cash for their stock and I'll pay you cash when you or they + hand it over. That's business, ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + “But—but, dear me, Mr. Pulcifer, why do you ask ME to do this? Why—” + </p> + <p> + “Ain't I told you? You're a friend of mine and I'm givin' you the chance + because I think you need the money. That's a reason, ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—yes. It is—ah—a reason. But why don't you buy the + stock yourself?” + </p> + <p> + For an instant Raish's smoothness deserted him. His temper flared. + </p> + <p> + “Because the cussed fools won't sell it to me,” he snapped. “That is, they + ain't said they'd sell yet. Perhaps they're prejudiced against me, I don't + know. Maybe they will sell to you; you and they seem to be thicker'n + thieves. Er—that is, of course, you understand I don't mean—Oh, + well, you know what I mean, Perfessor. Now what do you say?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha rose and picked up his hat from the floor. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid I must say no,” he said, quietly, but with a firmness which + even Raish Pulcifer's calloused understanding could not miss. “I could not + think of accepting, really.” + </p> + <p> + “But, say, Perfessor—” + </p> + <p> + “No, Mr. Pulcifer. I could not.” + </p> + <p> + “But why not? IF—Well, I tell you, maybe I might make it sixty + dollars instead of fifty for you.” + </p> + <p> + “No. I couldn't, Mr. Pulcifer.... If you will kindly unlock the door?” + </p> + <p> + Pulcifer swore. “Well, you must be richer'n you look, that's all I've got + to say,” he snarled. He kicked the wastebasket across the room and + growled: “I'll get the stuff away from 'em yet, just the same. What the + fools are hangin' on for is more'n I can see. Martha Phipps was down on + her knees beggin' me to buy only a little spell ago. Old Jeth, of course, + thinks his 'spirits' are backin' HIM up. Crazy old loon! Spirits! In this + day and time! God sakes! Humph! I wish to thunder I could deal with the + spirits direct; might be able to do business with THEM. Perfessor, now + come, think it over. There ain't anything crooked about it.... Why, what + is it, Perfessor?” eagerly. “Changed your mind, have you?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha's expression had changed, certainly. He looked queerly at Mr. + Pulcifer, queerly and for an appreciable interval of time. There was an + odd flash in his eye and the suspicion of a smile at the corner of his + lips. But he was grave enough when he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Pulcifer,” he said, “I appreciate your kindness in—ah—considering + me in this matter. I—it is impossible for me to accept your offer, + of course, but—but—” + </p> + <p> + “Now, hold on, Perfessor. You think that offer over.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I cannot accept. But it has occurred to me that perhaps... perhaps... + Mr. Pulcifer, do you know Miss Hoag?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? Marietta Hoag? KNOW her? Yes, I know her; know her too well for my + own good. Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Have you any—ah—influence with her? That is, would she be + likely to listen to a suggestion from you?” + </p> + <p> + “Listen! SHE? Confound her, I've got a note of hers for seventy-five + dollars and it's two months overdue. She'd BETTER listen! Say, what are + you drivin' at, Perfessor?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha deposited his hat upon the floor again, and sat down in the chair + he had just vacated. Now it was he who, regardless of the cigar, leaned + forward. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Pulcifer,” he said, “an idea occurred to me while you were speaking + just now. I don't know that it will be of any—ah—value to you. + But you are quite welcome to it, really. This is the idea—” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> + <p> + If Ras Beebe or Miss Blount or some others of the group of East + Wellmouthians who guessed Galusha Bangs to be “a little teched in the + head,” had seen that gentleman walking toward home after his interview + with Mr. Pulcifer in the latter's office—if they had seen him on his + way to Gould's Bluffs that day, they would have ceased guessing and + professed certain knowledge. Galusha meandered slowly along the lane, head + bent, hands clasped behind him, stumbling over tussocks and stepping with + unexpected emphasis into ruts and holes. Sometimes his face wore a + disturbed expression, almost a frightened one; at other times he smiled + and his eyes twinkled like those of a mischievous boy. Once he laughed + aloud, and, hearing himself, looked guiltily around to see if any one else + had heard him. Then the frightened expression returned once more. If + Primmie Cash had been privileged to watch him she might have said, as she + had on a former occasion, that he looked “as if he was havin' a good time + all up one side of him and a bad one all down t'other.” + </p> + <p> + As a matter of fact, this estimate would not have been so far wrong. + Galusha was divided between pleasurable anticipation and fear. There was + adventure ahead, adventure which promised excitement, a probable benefit + to some individuals and a grievous shock to others, and surprise to all. + But for him there was involved a certain amount of risk. However, so he + decided before he reached the Phipps' gate, he had started across the + desert and it was too late to turn back. Whether he brought his caravan + over safely or the Bedouins got him was on the knees of the gods. And the + fortunes of little Galusha Bangs had been, ere this, on the knees of many + gods, hawk-headed and horned and crescent-crowned, strange gods in strange + places. It was quite useless to worry now, he decided, and he would calmly + wait and see. At the best, the outcome would be good, delightful. At the + worst, except for him—well, except for him it could not be much + worse than it now was. For him, of course—he must not think about + that. + </p> + <p> + He endeavored to assume an air of light-hearted, care-free innocence and + sometimes overdid it a bit. Primmie, the eagle-eyed, remarked to her + mistress: “Well, all's I can say is that I never see such a change in a + body as there is in Mr. Bangs. He used to be so—so quiet, you know, + all the time, and he is yet most of it. When I used to come along and find + him all humped over thinkin', and I'd ask him what he was thinkin' about, + he'd kind of jump and wake up and say, 'Eh? Oh, nothin', nothin,' Primmie, + really. Er—quite so—yes.' And then he'd go to sleep again, as + you might say. But he don't do so now; my savin' soul, no! This mornin' + when I says, 'What you thinkin' about, Mr. Bangs?' he says, 'Nothin', + nothin', Primmie,' same as usual; but then he says, 'DON'T look at me like + that, Primmie. I wasn't thinkin' of anything, I assure you. Please don't + DO it.' And then he commenced to sing, sing out loud. I never heard him do + it afore and I don't know's I exactly hanker to have him do it again, + 'cause 'twas pretty unhealthy singin', if you ask ME. But what—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, now run along, run along, Primmie, for mercy's sakes! I never heard + any one use so many words and get so little good out of 'em in my life. + Let Mr. Bangs alone.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>I</i> ain't doin' nothin' to him. Lord of Isrul, no! But, Miss Martha, + what started him to singin' all to once? If 'twas somebody else but him + and I didn't know the cherry rum was all gone, I—” + </p> + <p> + “What? What's that? How did you know the cherry rum was all gone?” + </p> + <p> + Primmie blinked and swallowed hard. “Why—er—why—er—Miss + Martha,” she stammered, “I—I just happened to find it out—er—sort + of by accident. Zach—Zacheus Bloomer, I mean—over to the + lighthouse, you know—” + </p> + <p> + “There, there! Know? Of course I know Zach Bloomer, I should think I + might. Don't be any sillier than the Lord made you, Primmie. It isn't + necessary.” + </p> + <p> + “Well—well, you see, Miss Martha, Zach he was over here one time a + spell ago and—and—Well, we got to—to kind of arguin' + with one another—er—er—arguin', you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know. I ought to. Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes'm. And Zach he got to—to bettin', as you might say. And we got + talkin' about—er—cherry rum, seems so. It's kind of funny that + we done it, now I come to think of it, but we did. Seems to me 'twas Zach + started it.” + </p> + <p> + “Um.... I see. Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we argued and argued and finally he up and bet me there wasn't a + drink of cherry rum in this house. Bet me five cents, he did, and I took + him up. And then I went and got the bottle out of the soup tureen in the + closet and fetched it and showed it to him. 'There!' says I. 'There's your + drink, Zach Bloomer,' says I. 'Now hand over my five cents.' 'Hold on, + Posy,' he says, 'hold on. I said a drink. There ain't a drink in that + bottle.' 'Go 'long,' says I, 'the bottle's half full.' But he stuck it out + there wasn't a drink in it and afore he'd pay me my bet he had to prove it + to himself. Even then, after he'd swallowed the whole of it, he vowed and + declared there wasn't a real drink. But he had to hand over the five + cents.... And—and that's how I know,” concluded Primmie, “that there + ain't any cherry rum in the house, Miss Martha.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phipps' remarks on the subject of the wily Mr. Bloomer and the rum + drove the thoughts of Mr. Bangs' odd behavior from the mind of her maid. + But the consciousness of conspiracy was always present with Galusha, try + as he might to forget it. And he was constantly being reminded—of + it. Down at the post office at mail time he would feel his coat-tail + pulled and looking up would see the face of Mr. Pulcifer solemnly gazing + over his head at the rows of letter boxes. Apparently Raish was quite + unconscious of the little man's presence, but there would come another tug + at the coat-tail and a barely perceptible jerk of the Pulcifer head toward + the door. + </p> + <p> + Feeling remarkably like a fool, Galusha would follow to the front steps of + the post office. There Raish would suddenly and, in a tone of joyful + surprise, quite as if they had not met for years, seize his hand, pump it + up and down and ask concerning his health, the health of the Gould's + Bluffs colony and the “news down yonder.” Then, gazing blandly up the road + at nothing in particular, he would add, speaking in a whisper and from the + corner of his mouth: “Comin' along, Perfessor. She's a-comin' along. Keep + your ear out for signals.... What say? Why, no, I don't think it does look + as much like rain as it did, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + One evening Galusha, entering the Phipps' sitting room, found Lulie there. + She and Martha were in earnest conversation and the girl was plainly much + agitated. He was hurriedly withdrawing, but Miss Phipps called him back. + </p> + <p> + “Come in, Mr. Bangs,” she said. “I think Lulie would like to talk to you. + She said she would.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Yes, I would, Mr. Bangs,” put in Lulie, herself. “Could you spare + just a minute or two?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha cheerfully avowed that he had so many spare minutes that he did + not know what to do with them. + </p> + <p> + “If time were money, as they say it is,” he added, “I should be a—ah—sort + of mint, shouldn't I?” Then he smiled and added: “Why, no, not exactly + that, either. A mint is where they make money and I certainly do not make + time. But I have just as much time as if I did. Yes—ah—quite + so. As our philosophizing friend Zacheus is so fond of saying, I have 'all + the time there is.' And if time IS money—why—ah.... Eh? Dear + me, possibly you ladies know what I am talking about; <i>I</i> don't.” + </p> + <p> + They both burst out laughing and he smiled and stroked his chin. Martha + looked him over. + </p> + <p> + “What makes you so nervous, Mr. Bangs?” she asked. He started and colored. + He was a trifle nervous, having a shrewd suspicion as to what Miss Hallett + wished to talk with him about. She promptly confirmed the suspicion. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bangs,” she said, “I am in such trouble. It's about father, as usual. + I'm afraid he is at it again.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? I beg pardon? Oh, yes, certainly.” + </p> + <p> + Martha shook her head. “He hasn't the slightest idea what you mean, + Lulie,” she declared. “That's why he says 'Oh, yes, certainly.' She means, + Mr. Bangs, that Cap'n Jethro is beginnin' to break out with another attack + of Marietta Hoag's spirits, and we've been tryin' to think of a way to + stop him. We haven't yet. Perhaps you can. Can you?” + </p> + <p> + Lulie went on to explain. Her father had been more gloomy and thoughtful + for the last week or two. She had noticed it and so had Zach. He talked + with her less and less as the days passed, lapsed into silences at meals, + and on nights when he was supposed to be off duty and asleep she often + heard him walking about his room. If she asked him, as, of course, she + often did, what was the matter, if he was not feeling well or if there was + anything troubling him, he only growled a negative or ordered her not to + bother him. + </p> + <p> + “And when, last Wednesday at supper,” she went on, “Zach said something + about the engine for the foghorn not working just as it should, father's + answer showed us both what was in his mind. I had guessed it before and + Zach says he had, but then we knew.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell Mr. Bangs what he said,” urged Martha. + </p> + <p> + “He didn't say so very much, Mr. Bangs, but it was the way he said it. He + glowered at poor Zach, who hadn't said or done anything wrong, and pulled + his beard as he always does. Then he said: 'There's no wonder the engine's + out of kilter. There's no wonder about that. The wonder is that anything's + right aboard here. We've been trying to steer without a compass. We've got + so we think we don't need a pilot or a chart, but are so everlasting smart + we can cruise anywhere on our own hook.' 'Why, father,' said I, 'what do + you mean?' He glared at me then. 'Mean?' he asked. 'I mean we've had + guidance offered to us, offered to us over and over again, and we've + passed it by on the other side.'” + </p> + <p> + She paused. Galusha looked puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—um, yes,” he observed. “On the other side? Yes—ah—quite + so.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that was just his way of speaking, Mr. Bangs. I tried to change the + subject. I asked him if he didn't think we should report the engine + trouble to the inspector when he came next month. It was a mistake, my + saying that. He got up from his chair. 'I'm going to report,' he said. + 'I'm going to make my report aloft and ask for guidance. The foghorn ain't + the only thing that's runnin' wild. My own flesh and blood defies me.'” + </p> + <p> + Martha interrupted. “You hear that, Mr. Bangs?” she said. “And we were all + hopin' THAT snarl was straightenin' itself out.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha looked very uneasy. “Dear me,” he said. “Really, now. Oh, dear!” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” continued Lulie, “that was enough, of course. And the next day, + last Thursday, Zacheus said Ras Beebe told him that Ophelia—that's + his sister, you know—told him that Abel Harding told her that his + wife said that Marietta Hoag told HER—I HOPE I've got all the 'hims' + and 'hers' straight—that Cap'n Jeth Hallett was going to have + another seance down at the light pretty soon. Marietta said that father + felt he needed help from 'over the river'.... What is it, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing, nothing. For a moment I did not get the—ah—allusion, + the 'over the river,' you know. I comprehend now, the—ah—Styx; + yes.” + </p> + <p> + But now Martha looked puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “Sticks!” she repeated. “Lulie didn't say anything about sticks. Neither + did Cap'n Jethro. Spirits he was talkin' about.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know. Certainly, quite so. The shades beyond the Styx.” + </p> + <p> + “SHADES? STICKS! For mercy's sakes, Mr. Bangs—!” + </p> + <p> + Lulie laughed aloud. “He means the River Styx, Martha,” she explained. + “Don't you know? The river of the dead, that the ancients believed in, + where Charon rowed the ferry.” + </p> + <p> + And now Martha laughed. “My goodness gracious me!” she cried. “Yes, yes, + of course. I've read about it, but it was a long while ago. Mr. Bangs, I'm + dreadfully ignorant, I realize it about once every ten minutes when I'm + with you. Perhaps I've got a little excuse this time. I've been figurin' I + must buy new curtains for the dinin' room. I was thinkin' about it all + this forenoon. And when YOU began to talk about shades and sticks, I—Mercy + me! I am funny, I declare!” + </p> + <p> + She laughed again and Lulie and Galusha joined her. They were still + laughing when the dining room door opened. Mr. Bloomer's substantial if + not elegant form appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't buttin' in, be I?” inquired Zach. “I knew you was over here, Lulie, + so I stopped to tell you the news. It's all settled.” + </p> + <p> + “Settled?” Lulie and Martha repeated the word together. Zach nodded, + portentously. + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm,” he declared. “Settled's the word. The whistle's piped to + quarters. All hands, alow and aloft, are ordered to report on board the + good ship Gould's Bluffs Lighthouse, Cap'n Jethro Hallet commandin', on + Friday next, the—er—I-forget-what of this month, at seven + bells in the—” + </p> + <p> + “Zach! Zach!” broke in Lulie. “Stop it! What are you talking about?” + </p> + <p> + “Talkin' about what I'm tryin' to tell you,” said Zacheus, who seemed, for + him, a good deal disturbed. “All able believers, fo'mast hands, and + roustabouts and all full-rated ghosts, spooks, sperits and Chinee controls + are ordered to get together in the parlor next Saturday night and turn + loose and raise-whatever 'tis they raise. Signed, Marietta Hoag, Admiral, + and Cap'n Jethro Hallett, Skipper. There, by Godfreys! Now if you don't + know 'tain't my fault, is it? Yes, sir, there's goin' to be another one of + them fool sea-ants, or whatever 'tis they call 'em, over to the house next + Friday night. And I think it's a darn shame, if you want to know what <i>I</i> + think. And just as you and me, Lulie, was hopin' the old man was gettin' + so he'd forgot Marietta and all her crew. A healthy note, by Godfreys, + ain't it now!” + </p> + <p> + “A healthy note,” or words to that effect, was exactly what it was; Martha + and Lulie were in thorough accord with Zach as to that. Galusha did not + say very much. He rubbed his chin a good deal and when, after Bloomer had + departed, Lulie came close to breaking down and crying, he still was + silent, although nervous and evidently much disturbed. Lulie bravely + conquered her emotion. + </p> + <p> + “Please don't mind me,” she begged. “It's awfully silly of me, I know. + But, you see, Nelson and I had really begun to think that perhaps father + had broken away from—from all that. For a time he was—oh, + different. Nelson told you that he bowed to him once and I told you how—But + what is the use? Here he goes again. And now goodness knows what dreadful + ideas that Hoag woman will put into his head. Nelson and I had hoped that + perhaps—perhaps we might be married in six months or a year. Now—Oh, + it is SO discouraging!” + </p> + <p> + Martha soothed her, told her not to be discouraged, that no doubt this + spirit outbreak would be only a mild one, that she was sure Captain Jeth + would “come around all right” in time, and grasped at any other straws of + comfort she found afloat. Galusha stood awkwardly by, his face expressing + concern, but his tongue silent. When Lulie declared she must go home, he + insisted upon walking to the light with her. + </p> + <p> + “But you don't need to, Mr. Bangs,” she declared. “It is a pleasant night + and such a little way. And you know I am used to running about alone. Why, + what on earth do you think would be likely to hurt me, down here in this + lonesomeness?” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, he insisted. But, although she chatted during their short + walk, it was not until they reached the light keeper's gate that he spoke. + Then he laid a hand on her arm. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—ah—Miss Lulie—” he began, but she stopped him. + </p> + <p> + “I thought we had settled long ago,” she said, “that I wasn't to be 'Miss' + Lulie. Now you are beginning again.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes. I beg your pardon, of course. Well, Miss—Oh, dear + me, HOW ridiculous I am! Well, Lulie, I should like to tell you a story. + May I?” + </p> + <p> + It seemed a queer place and an odd time to tell stories, but she said of + course he might. + </p> + <p> + “It wasn't a very long story,” he went on, “but it is a true one. I + happened to think of it just now while we were talking, you and I and—ah—Miss + Martha. It is about me. On one of my expeditions in Egypt, Miss Lu—Oh, + good gracious!—On one of my Egyptian expeditions, Lulie, I was in + search of a certain tomb, or group of tombs. It was on this expedition, by + the way, that we found the very remarkable statue of Amenemhait; + Amenemhait III, you know.” + </p> + <p> + Lulie smiled. “I DON'T know,” she said, “but it doesn't matter.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Oh, no, not at all, not in the least. He was a Pharaoh of the first + Theban period. But that doesn't matter either; and he hasn't anything to + do with this story. We had learned of the existence of this group of + tombs, or that they had existed at one time, and of their approximate + location, from an inscription dug up by myself at—” + </p> + <p> + The door of the light keeper's cottage swung open with a bang. A voice + roared across the night. + </p> + <p> + “Lulie!” shouted Captain Jethro. “Lulie!” + </p> + <p> + The Bangs' story broke off in the middle. Its narrator and his young + companion turned startled faces toward the sound. + </p> + <p> + “Lulie!” bellowed Captain Jeth, again. “Lulie!” + </p> + <p> + Lulie answered. “Why, yes, father,” she said. “I am right here, at the + gate. Why are you shouting so? What is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + The captain seemed much surprised. He raised a hand to shield his eyes + from the lamplight in the room behind him. + </p> + <p> + “Hey?” he queried. “Where be you? You ain't right there at the gate, are + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, of course I am.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!...” Then, with renewed suspicion, “Who's that with you?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bangs. I ran over to Martha's for a minute or two, and he walked home + with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-evening, Captain Hallett,” hailed Galusha. Captain Jethro pulled his + beard. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he grunted. “Humph! Mr. Bangs, eh?... Humph! I thought—Cal'late + I must have fell asleep on the sofy and been dreamin'.... Humph!... Lulie, + you better come in now, it's chilly out here. Mr. Bangs can come, too, I + suppose likely—if he wants to.” + </p> + <p> + It was not the most cordial of invitations and Galusha did not accept it. + </p> + <p> + “I must get back to the house, Captain,” he said. “It IS chilly, as you + say. No doubt he is right, Lulie. You mustn't stay. Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Mr. Bangs, you haven't finished your story.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Dear me, so I haven't. Well—” + </p> + <p> + “Lulie!” Captain Jethro's voice was fretful. “Lulie, you come along in + now. I want you.” + </p> + <p> + Lulie shook her head resignedly. “Yes, father,” she replied, “I'm coming + this minute. You see?” she whispered. “He is getting back all the + impatience and—and strangeness that he had last fall. It is that + dreadful spirit business. Oh, dear!” + </p> + <p> + Galusha softly patted her shoulder. “I won't finish my story,” he said, in + a low tone. “It isn't necessary, because I can tell you the—ah—moral, + so to speak, and that will do as well. We found those tombs at last by + doing a thing which, we were all sure, was the worst thing we could + possibly do. It turned out to be that 'worst thing' which saved us. And—and + I wish you would think that over, Lulie,” he added, earnestly. “It looked + to be the very worst thing and—and it turned out to be the best.... + Ah—good-night.” + </p> + <p> + But she detained him. “I don't understand, Mr. Bangs,” she said. “What do + you mean? You said you were going to tell me the moral of your story. That + isn't a moral, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? No—ah—no. I suppose it isn't. But—but you think it + over, to please me, you know. A—a something which looked to be the + worst that could happen was the miracle that gave us our tombs. Perhaps + the—perhaps what you dread most may give you yours. Not your tomb; + dear me, no! I hope not. But may be the means of—of saving the + situation. There, there, I must go. Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait, wait, Mr. Bangs.... Oh, yes, father, I'm coming now.... Mr. Bangs, + what DO you mean? What I dread the most? What I dread—I think I + dread that silly seance next Saturday night more than anything else. Mr. + Bangs, you don't mean—” + </p> + <p> + “Now, now, now, Lulie. I mustn't say a word more. I—I have said too + much, I know. Just think over the—ah—moral, that's all. Think + it over—but don't mention it to any one else, please. Good-night. + Good-night, Captain Hallett.” + </p> + <p> + He hurried away. Lulie stared after him, wonderingly; then she turned and + walked slowly and thoughtfully to the door. Her father regarded her with a + troubled expression. + </p> + <p> + “I dreamed,” he said, slowly, “that Julia come to me and said somethin' + about you. I don't seem to recollect just what 'twas she said. But 'twas + somethin' about you—somethin' about me lookin' out for you.... + Seem's if,” he added, doubtfully, “as if she said you'd look out for me, + but that's just foolishness and wouldn't mean nothin'. It couldn't be, + that couldn't.... Humph! Well, come on in.” + </p> + <p> + The remainder of that week the seance to be held in the light keeper's + cottage on Saturday evening was much talked about. The devout, including + the Beebes, the Hardings and the Blounts were quite excited about it. The + scoffers derided and waxed sarcastic. Of these scoffers the most outspoken + was Horatio Pulcifer. He declared that the whole fool business made him + tired. Old Cap'n Jeth Hallett must be getting cracked as one of them + antique plates. He wasn't sure that the selectmen hadn't ought to stop the + thing, a lot of ninnies sitting in a round circle holding hands and + pretending to get spirit messages. Huh! Just let 'em get a message that + proved something, that meant something to somebody, and he'd believe, too, + he'd be glad to believe. But he was from Missouri and they'd got to show + him. With much more to the same effect. + </p> + <p> + In private, and in the ear of Galusha Bangs, he made a significant remark. + </p> + <p> + “Go?” he repeated. “Me go to that seance thing? Not so you'd notice it, + Perfessor. I'm what they call a wise bird. I get up early, a consider'ble + spell before breakfast. Um-hm, a consider'ble spell. Saturday night I'm + goin' to be a long ways from Gould's Bluffs lighthouse, you bet on that.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha expressed surprise and gave reasons for that emotion. Raish winked + and nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know,” he said, “but I'm goin' to have what they call an alibi. + You ain't been to court much, I presume likely, Perfessor, so you may not + be on to what alibi is. When Bill Alworthy was hauled up for sellin' + without a license we had an alibi for him. He proved he was fourteen mile + away from where he sold the stuff—I mean from where they said he + sold it—and it was that what got him off. Well, on Saturday night + I'm goin' to have an alibi. I'm goin' to be settin' in at a little + penny-ante in Elmer Rogers' back room over to the Centre. An alibi's a + nice thing to have in the house, Perfessor. Hey? Haw, haw, haw! Yes, + sir-ee! In case there's any talk they won't be able to pin much on your + Uncle Raish, not much they won't.” + </p> + <p> + He nudged the Bangs' ribs and walked off, chuckling. Galusha, too, smiled + as he watched him go. Both he and Mr. Pulcifer seemed to find amusement in + the situation. Yet, and Galusha realized it, there was also for him that + element of risk. + </p> + <p> + On Thursday Captain Jethro stopped at the Phipps' home to invite its + inmates to the Saturday evening meeting. His invitation was not precisely + whole-hearted, but the reason he gave for offering it caused its + acceptance. + </p> + <p> + “Lulie seems to want you and Mr. Bangs,” he said, “so come along if you + feel like it. I know you're one of the don't-believers, Martha, and I + guess likely Bangs is, but never mind. The door's open if you want to + come. Maybe you'll hear somethin' that'll lead you to the light; let's + hope so. Anyhow, Lulie wants you.” + </p> + <p> + It will be noticed that Primmie's name was not mentioned in the + invitation, but that did not prevent her acceptance. That evening, after + the supper dishes were washed, Miss Phipps heard agonized wails coming + from the kitchen and, going there, found her maid seated in a chair, + swaying back and forth, and, as Zach Bloomer once described a similar + performance, “tootin' her everlastin' soul into the harmonica.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm practicin' up for Saturday night,” she informed her mistress, + cheerfully. “I've been tryin' to think up some other hymn tunes and I've + thought of one, but I can't remember what 'tis, the whole of it, I mean. + You know, Miss Martha, the one about: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 'Oh, what a sight 'twill be + When the somethin'-or-other host we see, + As numberless as the sands on the seashore.' +</pre> + <p> + What kind of a host is it, Miss Martha? All I can think of is 'rancid' and + I'm plaguy sure 'tain't THAT.” + </p> + <p> + Martha burst out laughing. “It is 'ransomed,' Primmie,” she said. “But if + you're figurin' on playin' that thing over at the seance, I'm afraid + you'll be disappointed. Cap'n Jethro has had the old melodeon repaired, I + believe. And, so far as I've heard, you haven't been asked to come, have + you?” + </p> + <p> + Primmie became a statue of despair. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Miss Martha,” she pleaded, “CAN'T I go? Can't I please go? You're + goin' and so's Mr. Bangs, and—and I do like 'em so, those spirit + meetin's. They scare me 'most to death and I just love 'em. PLEASE can't I + go, Miss Martha?” + </p> + <p> + Martha took pity on her. “Well, all right, Primmie,” she said. “Go, if you + want to. I don't believe Jethro will care. And,” with a shrug, “I don't + know as another idiot, more or less, added to the rest of us, will make + much difference.” + </p> + <p> + Saturday, the eventful day, or the day of the eventful evening, was fine + and clear. At noon an unexpected event, the first of several, occurred; + Zacheus, bringing the mail from the post office, brought a large and heavy + letter addressed to Galusha Bangs, Esq., and stamped in the upper + left-hand corner with the name of the National Institute of Washington. + Galusha opened it in his room alone. It was the “plan,” the long-ago + announced and long-expected plan in all its details. An expedition was to + be fitted out, more completely and more elaborately than any yet equipped + by the Institute, and was to go to the Nile basin for extended and careful + research lasting two years at least. And he was offered the command of + that expedition, to direct its labors and to be its scientific head. + Whatever it accomplished, he would have accomplished; the rewards—the + understanding gratitude of his fellow archaeologists the world over would + be his, and his alone. + </p> + <p> + He sat there in his room and read and reread the letter. The terms in + which the offer had been made were gratifying in the extreme. The + confidence in his ability and scientific knowledge were expressed without + stint. But, and more than this, between the lines he could read the + affection of his associates there at the Institute and their pride in him. + His own affection and pride were touched. A letter like this and an offer + and opportunity like these were wonderful. The pride he felt was a very + humble pride. He was unworthy of such trust, but he was proud to know they + believed him worthy. + </p> + <p> + He sat there, the many sheets of the letter between his fingers, looking + out through the window at the brown, windswept hollows and little hills + and the cold gray-green sea beyond. He saw none of these. What he did see + was the long stretch of ridged sand, heaving to the horizon, the brilliant + blue of the African sky, the line of camels trudging on, on. He saw the + dahabeah slowly making its way up the winding river, the flat banks on + either side, the palm trees in silhouetted clusters against the sunset, + the shattered cornice of the ruins he was to explore just coming into + view. He saw and heard the shrieking, chattering laborers digging, half + naked, amid the scattered blocks of sculptured stone and, before and + beneath them, the upper edge of the doorway which they were uncovering, + the door behind which he was to find—who knew what treasures. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bangs,” called Martha from the foot of the stairs, “dinner's ready.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha was far away, somewhere beyond the Libyan desert, but he heard the + summons. + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” he exclaimed. “Oh, yes, yes, Miss Martha, I am coming.” + </p> + <p> + As he descended the stairs, it occurred to him that the voices calling him + to dinner across the sands or beneath the palms would be quite different + from this one, they would be masculine and strange and without the + pleasant, cheerful cordiality to which he had become accustomed. Martha + Phipps called one to a meal as if she really enjoyed having him there. + There was a welcome in her tones, a homelike quality, a... yes, indeed, + very much so. + </p> + <p> + At table he was unusually quiet. Martha asked him why he looked at her so + queerly. + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Do I?” he exclaimed. “Oh, I'm so sorry! I wasn't aware. I beg your + pardon. I hope you're not offended.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed. “Mercy me,” she said, “I'm not offended so easily. And if + your absent-mindedness could make me take offense, Mr. Bangs, we should + have quarreled long ago. But I should like to know what you were thinkin' + about. You sat there and stared at me and your face was as solemn as—as + Luce's when it is gettin' past his dinner time. You looked as if you had + lost your best friend.” + </p> + <p> + He did not smile even then. Nor did he make any reply worth noting. As a + matter of fact, he was awakening to the realization that if he accepted + the call to Egypt—and accept he must, of course—he would in + solemn truth lose his best friend. Or, if not lose her exactly, go away + and leave her for so long that it amounted to a loss. He must leave this + dining room, with its plants and old pictures and quaint homeliness, leave + the little Phipps' cottage, leave its owner.... The dazzling visions of + sands and sphinxes, of palms and pyramids, suddenly lost their dazzle. The + excitement caused by the reading of the letter dulled and deadened. The + conviction which had come upon him so often of late returned with + redoubled vigor, the conviction that he had been happy where he was and + would never be as happy anywhere else. Egypt, even beloved Egypt with all + the new and wonderful opportunities it now offered him, did not appeal. + The thought was alarming. When he did not want to go to Egypt there must + be something the matter with him, something serious. What was it? + </p> + <p> + After dinner he told her of the offer which had been made him. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you would like to see the letter,” he said. “It is a very kind + one. Dear me, yes. Much kinder than I deserve.” + </p> + <p> + She read the long letter through, read the details of the great plan from + end to end. When the reading was finished she sat silent, the letter in + her lap, and she did not look at him. + </p> + <p> + “They are very kind to me, aren't they?” he said, gravely. “Very kind and + generous. The thought of it quite—ah—overwhelms me, really. Of + course, I know what they say concerning my—ah—the value of my + service is quite ridiculous, overstated and—and all that, but they + do that thinking to please me, I suppose. I... Why—why, Miss Martha, + you—you're not—” + </p> + <p> + She smiled, a rather misty smile. “No,” she said, “I'm not. But I think I + shall if you keep on talkin' in that way.” + </p> + <p> + “But—but, Miss Martha, I'm so sorry. I assure you I did not mean to + hurt your feelings. If I have said anything to distress you I'm VERY + sorry. Dear me, dear me! What did I say? I—” + </p> + <p> + She motioned him to silence. “Hush, hush!” she begged. “You didn't say + anything, of course, except what you always say—that what you have + done doesn't amount to anything and that you aren't of any consequence and—all + that. You always say it, and you believe it, too. When I read this letter, + Mr. Bangs, and found that THEY know what you really are, that they had + found you out just as—as some of your other friends have, it—it—” + </p> + <p> + She paused. Galusha turned red. “I—I—” he stammered. “Oh, you + mustn't talk so, Miss Martha. It's all nonsense, you know. Really it is.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head and smiled once more. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” she argued. “Then we'll call it nonsense; but it's pretty + glorious nonsense, seems to me. I do congratulate you, Mr. Bangs. And I + congratulate the Institute folks a great deal more. Now tell me some more + about it, please. Where is this place they want you to go to?” + </p> + <p> + That afternoon Galusha spent in wandering about the countryside. He went + as far from home as the old graveyard in South Wellmouth. He took a long + walk and it should have been a pleasant one, but somehow it was not, + particularly. All he could think of was the two facts—one, that he + had been offered a wonderful opportunity, for which he should be eagerly + and hugely grateful; two, that he was not grateful at all, but resentful + and rebellious. And what on earth was the matter with him? + </p> + <p> + Martha was setting the supper table when he came in. He went to his room + and when he came down supper was almost ready. Primmie was in the kitchen, + busy with the cooking. + </p> + <p> + “We're having an early supper, Mr. Bangs,” said Martha. “That everlastin' + seance begins about half past seven, so Cap'n Jethro took pains to tell + me, and he'll be crosser'n a hen out in a rainstorm if we're not on time.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha looked surprised. He had forgotten the seance altogether. Yes, he + had quite forgotten it. And, up to that noon, he had thought of very + little else the entire week. What WAS the matter with him? + </p> + <p> + “Lulie is goin' to send Zach over to tell us when they're ready to set + sail for Ghost Harbor,” went on Martha. “That will save us watchin' the + clock. What say?” + </p> + <p> + But he had not said anything and she went on arranging the dishes. After + an interval she asked a question. + </p> + <p> + “How soon—that is, when will you have to leave us—leave here, + Mr. Bangs?” she asked. She was not looking at him when she asked it. + </p> + <p> + Galusha sighed. “In about two weeks, I—ah—suppose,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah—yes.” + </p> + <p> + There was another silent interval. Then Martha turned her head to listen. + </p> + <p> + “Wasn't that an automobile I heard then?” she asked. “Yes, it is. It can't + be the Spiritualist crowd comin' so soon. No, it is stoppin' here, at our + gate. Is it Doctor Powers, I wonder?” + </p> + <p> + She went to the window, pulled aside the shade and looked out. + </p> + <p> + “It is a big car,” she said. “It isn't the doctor, that's sure. There's a + man gettin' out, a big man in a fur coat. Who on earth—?” + </p> + <p> + Steps sounded without upon the walk, then there was a knock upon the side + door, that of the dining room. Martha opened the door. A man's voice, a + brisk, businesslike voice, asked a question. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes,” replied Miss Phipps, “he lives here. He's right here now. + Won't you step in?” + </p> + <p> + The man who had asked the question accepted the invitation and entered the + dining room. He was a big, broad-shouldered man in a raccoon motor coat. + He took off a cap which matched the coat and looked about the room. Then + he saw Galusha. + </p> + <p> + “Why, hello, Loosh!” he said. + </p> + <p> + Galusha knew him, had recognized the voice before he saw its owner. His + mouth opened, shut, and opened again. He was quite pale. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—ah—why, Cousin Gussie!” he stammered. + </p> + <p> + For the man in the fur coat standing there in Martha Phipps' dining room + was the senior partner of Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX + </h2> + <p> + For perhaps thirty seconds after the exchange of greetings, the trio in + the Phipps' dining room stood where they were, practically without moving. + Mr. Cabot, of course, was smiling broadly, Miss Phipps was gazing in blank + astonishment from one to the other of the two men, and Galusha Bangs was + staring at his relative as Robinson Crusoe stared at the famous footprint, + “like one thunderstruck.” + </p> + <p> + It was Cabot who broke up the tableau. His smile became a hearty laugh. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter, Loosh?” he demanded. “Great Scott, old man, I expected + to surprise you, but I didn't expect to give you a paralytic stroke. How + are you?” + </p> + <p> + He walked over and held out his hand. Galusha took it, but he looked as if + he was quite unaware of doing so. “Cousin Gussie!” he repeated, faintly. + Then he added his favorite exclamation. “Dear me!” + </p> + <p> + Even Martha, who by this time was used to his eccentricities, thought his + conduct strange. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Mr. Bangs,” she cried, “are you sick? What is it?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha blinked, put a hand to his forehead, knocked off his spectacles, + picked them up again and, in doing so, appeared to pick up a little of his + normal self. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Cousin Gussie,” he observed, for the third time; adding, “I—I + am surprised.” + </p> + <p> + His cousin's laugh made the little room echo. + </p> + <p> + “Good, Loosh!” he exclaimed. “I guessed as much; you looked it. Well, it + is all right; I'm here in the flesh. Aren't you glad to see me?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha stammered that he was very glad to see him—yes, indeed—ah—quite + so—very, of course. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—ah—won't you sit down?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Martha could stand it no longer. “Why, mercy's sakes, Mr. Bangs,” she + exclaimed, “of course he'll sit down! And he'd probably take off his coat, + if you asked him.” + </p> + <p> + This pointed hint had an immediate effect. Her lodger sprang forward. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear me!” he cried. “I'm so sorry. Of course, of course. I BEG your + pardon, Cousin Gussie.” + </p> + <p> + He hindered a little more than he helped with the removal of the coat and + then stood, with the garment in his arms, peering over the heap of fur + like a spectacled prairie-dog peeping out of a hole. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—sit down, sit down, please,” he begged. “I—ah—please + do.” + </p> + <p> + Again Martha interrupted. “Here, let me take that coat, Mr. Bangs,” she + said, and took it forthwith. Galusha, coming to himself still more, + remembered the conventionalities. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Miss Phipps,” he cried, “may I introduce my—ah—cousin, + Mr. Cabot. Mr. Cabot, this is the lady who has taken charge of me, so to + speak.” + </p> + <p> + Both Martha and Cabot burst out laughing. + </p> + <p> + “That sounds as if I had arrested him, doesn't it?” observed the former. + “But it is all right, Mr. Cabot; I've only taken him to board.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand. Well, unless he has changed a lot since I used to know him, + he needs some one to take charge of him. And it agrees with him, too. Why, + Loosh, I thought you were an invalid; you look like a football player. Oh, + pardon me, Miss Phipps, but don't trouble to take that coat away. I can + stay only a little while. My chauffeur is waiting outside and I must get + on to the hotel or I'll be late for dinner.” + </p> + <p> + Martha, who was on her way to the hall and the coat rack, turned. “Hotel?” + she repeated. “What hotel, Mr. Cabot?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, the Something-or-other House over in the next town. The Robbins + House, is it? Something like that.” + </p> + <p> + “Robbins House? There isn't any. Oh, do you mean Roger's Hotel at the + Centre?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, that is it. I was told there was a hotel here, but they forgot + to tell me it was open only in the summer. What sort of place is this + Roger's Hotel?” + </p> + <p> + Martha looked at him and then at Galusha. + </p> + <p> + “Altogether too bad for any relation of Mr. Bangs's to go to,” she + declared. “At least, to eat supper. You and Mr. Bangs will excuse me, + won't you? I'll be right back.” + </p> + <p> + She hung the fur coat upon the rack and hastened back through the dining + room and out into the kitchen. Cabot took a chair and turned toward + Galusha. + </p> + <p> + “She is a capable woman,” he observed, with a jerk of his head toward the + kitchen door. “She has certainly taken good care of you. You look better + than when I saw you last and that was—Good Lord, how long ago was + it?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha replied that it was a good many years ago and then switched the + subject to that which was causing painful agitation in his bosom at the + moment, namely, the reason for his cousin's appearance in East Wellmouth. + </p> + <p> + Cousin Gussie laughed. “I came to see you, Loosh,” he declared. “Family + ties, and all that. I thought I would run down and get you to picnic on + the beach with me. How is the bathing just now?” + </p> + <p> + The chill October wind rattled the sash and furnished answer sufficient. + Galusha smiled a sad sort of acknowledgment of the joke. He did not feel + like smiling. The sensation of sitting on a powder barrel had returned to + him, except that now there was no head to the barrel and the air was full + of sparks. + </p> + <p> + “I—I did not expect you,” he faltered, for the sake of saying + something. Cabot laughed again. + </p> + <p> + “Of course you didn't,” he said. “Well, to tell you the truth, I didn't + come purposely to see you, old man. There has been a little business + matter down here which hasn't gone as I wanted it to, and I decided, + pretty much on the spur of the moment, to motor down and see what was the + matter. The friend for whom I was trying to handle the thing—it is + only a little matter—was coming with me, but this morning I got a + wire that he was detained and couldn't make it. So, as it was a glorious + day and my doctor keeps telling me to forget business occasionally, I + started alone. I didn't leave town until nearly eleven, had some motor + trouble, and didn't reach here until almost five. Then I found the fellow + I came to see had gone somewhere, nobody knew where, and the hotel was + closed for the season. I inquired about you, was given your address at the + post office, and hunted you up. That's the story.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha's smile was less forced this time. He nodded reflectively. + </p> + <p> + “That explains it,” he said, slowly. “Yes, quite so. Of course, that + explains it.” + </p> + <p> + “Explains what?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—ah—it explains why you came here, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I hope it does. That was the idea. If it doesn't I don't know what + will.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phipps entered briskly from the kitchen. She proceeded to set another + place at the supper table. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bangs,” she said, “hadn't you better take Mr. Cabot up to your room? + Probably he'd like to clean up after ridin' so far. Better go right away, + because supper is nearly ready. Mr. Cabot, it is Saturday night and you'll + get a Saturday night supper, beans and brown bread. I hope you won't + mind.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha's relative was somewhat taken aback. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Miss Phipps,” he protested, “of course I can't think of dining here. + It is extremely kind of you, but really I—” + </p> + <p> + Martha calmly interrupted. “It isn't kind at all,” she said. “And it isn't + dinner, it is supper. If you don't stay I shall think it is because you + don't like baked beans. I may as well tell you,” she added, “that you will + get beans and nothin' else over at Elmer Roger's. They won't be as good as + these, that's all. That isn't pride,” she continued, with a twinkle in her + eye. “Anybody's beans are better than Elmer's, they couldn't help bein'.” + </p> + <p> + The visitor still hesitated. “Well, really, Miss Phipps,” he said, “I—Well, + I should like to stay. I should, indeed. But, you see, my chauffeur is + outside waiting to take me over to the Roger's House.” + </p> + <p> + Martha smiled. “Oh, no, he isn't,” she said. “He is havin' his supper in + the kitchen now. Run along, Mr. Bangs, and you and your cousin hurry down + as soon as you can.” + </p> + <p> + On the way upstairs Cabot asked a question. + </p> + <p> + “She is a 'reg'lar' woman, as the boys say,” he observed. “I like her. + Does she always, so to speak, boss people like that?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha nodded, cheerfully. “When she thinks they need it,” he replied. + </p> + <p> + “Humph! I understand now what you meant by saying she had taken charge of + you. Does she boss you?” + </p> + <p> + Another cheerful nod. “I ALWAYS need it,” answered Galusha. + </p> + <p> + Martha, of course, presided at the supper table. Primmie did not sit down + with the rest. She ate in the kitchen with the Cabot chauffeur. But she + entered the dining room from time to time to bring in hot brown bread or + beans or cookies, or to change the plates, and each time she did so she + stared at Cousin Gussie with awe in her gaze. Evidently the knowledge that + the head of Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot was sitting there before her had + impressed her hugely. It was from Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot, so Primmie + remembered, that Mr. Bangs had procured the mammoth pile of bank notes + which she had seen upon her mistress's center table. She had never + actually been told where those notes came from, but she had guessed. And + now the proprietor of the “money factory”—for that is very nearly + what it was in her imagination—was there, sitting at the Phipps' + 'dining table, eating the baked beans that she herself had helped prepare. + No wonder that Primmie was awe-stricken, no wonder that she tripped over + the mat corner and just escaped showering the distinguished guest with a + platterful of those very beans. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Cabot seemed to enjoy his supper hugely. He was jolly, talkative, and + very entertaining. He described his camp sojourn in Nevada and, according + to him, life in a mountain sanitarium, under the care of a doctor and two + husky male nurses, was a gorgeous joke. Martha, who, to tell the truth, + had at first secretly shown a little of Primmie's awe, was soon completely + at ease. Even Galusha laughed, though not as often. It was hard for him to + forget the powder barrel sensation. Each time his cousin opened his mouth + to speak, he dreaded to hear reference to a dangerous subject or to be + asked a question which would set fire to the fuse. + </p> + <p> + The clock struck seven. Martha glanced at it and suddenly uttered an + exclamation. + </p> + <p> + “My goodness gracious!” she exclaimed. “I declare, Mr. Bangs, you and I + have forgotten all about that blessed seance. And half past seven was the + time for it to begin. Good gracious me!” + </p> + <p> + Galusha started. “Dear me, dear me!” he cried. “So it was. I had + completely forgotten it, really I had.” + </p> + <p> + He put his hand to his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “I shall have to go to it,” declared Martha. “Lulie begged me to come and + the cap'n won't like it if I stay away. But I don't see that you need to, + Mr. Bangs. You and your cousin can stay right here and talk and be + comfortable. He is goin' to stay overnight. Oh, yes, you are, Mr. Cabot. I + wouldn't let a stray cat go to Elmer Roger's hotel if I could help it, to + say nothin' of Mr. Bangs' cousin. The spare room's all ready and Primmie + is up there now, airin' it. She took your bag up with her; I had your + chauffeur bring it in from the car.” + </p> + <p> + Her guest stared at her for a moment, laughed and shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Well, really, Miss Phipps,” he said, “I don't know what to say to you. + You rather take me off my feet. It is very kind of you and, of course, I + am very much obliged; but, of course, too, I couldn't think of staying.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, please, Mr. Cabot! It isn't the least little bit of trouble, and + that's honest. Mr. Bangs, you tell him to stay.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha, thus appealed to, tried to say something, but succeeded only in + looking distressed. + </p> + <p> + “We WANT him to stay, don't we, Mr. Bangs?” urged Martha. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, certainly. Oh, yes, indeed. Ah—yes,” faltered + Galusha. If there was one thing which he distinctly did not want, it was + just that. And there was no doubt that Cabot was wavering. + </p> + <p> + “But, you see, Miss Phipps,” said Cousin Gussie, “it will be quite + impossible. My chauffeur—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know. I'm awfully sorry I haven't got a room for him. I wish I + had. But he can go to Elmer's. He wouldn't mind so much—at least I + hope he wouldn't—and there's a garage for the car over there. I + spoke to him about it and he's only waitin' for you to say the word, Mr. + Cabot.” + </p> + <p> + The visitor protested a bit more and then yielded. “Frankly, Miss Phipps,” + he said, “I have been wanting to stay ever since I entered your door. This + house takes me back to my boyhood, when I used to visit my great-uncle + Hiram down at Ostable. You remember him, Galusha, Uncle Hiram's dining + room had the same wholesome, homey atmosphere that yours has, Miss Phipps. + And I honestly believe I haven't enjoyed a meal since those old days as I + have enjoyed this supper of yours.” + </p> + <p> + Martha colored with pleasure. Galusha, forgetting his powder barrel, + beamed in sympathy. + </p> + <p> + “But there is just one more thing,” continued Cousin Gussie. “You and + Bangs were going out somewhere, were expected at some—er—social + affair, weren't you?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Phipps and her lodger exchanged looks. Both appeared embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + “Well—well, you see,” faltered the former. Then, after a moment's + reflection, she added, “Well, I'll tell you, Mr. Cabot.” + </p> + <p> + She did tell him, briefly, of Captain Hallett's spirit obsession, of her + friendship and sympathy for Lulie. She said nothing, of course, concerning + the latter's love story. + </p> + <p> + “So,” she said, in conclusion, “although I haven't the least bit of belief + in Marietta Hoag or any of her seances, I am sorry for Cap'n Jethro and I + am very fond of Lulie. She is worried, I know, and she has asked me to be + there tonight. You and Mr. Bangs will excuse me, everything considered, + won't you?” + </p> + <p> + But Galusha had something to say. “Miss Martha,” he said, “I am afraid I + must go, too. I promised Mr.—ah—um—I mean I promised + Lulie I would be there. And this is going to be a very important seance.” + </p> + <p> + Martha turned to him. + </p> + <p> + “It is?” she asked. “Important—how? What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + Her lodger looked as if he had said more than he intended. Also as if he + did not know what to say next. But Cabot saved him the trouble. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder if I might attend this—er—function?” he suggested. + “It is in the nature of a public affair, isn't it? And,” with a twinkle of + the eye, “it sounds as if it might be interesting.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha and Miss Phipps regarded him gravely. Both seemed a little + troubled. It was Martha who answered. + </p> + <p> + “There isn't any real reason why you shouldn't go, if you want to, Mr. + Cabot,” she said. “There is only one thing—only one reason why I + didn't say yes right away. I guess Mr. Bangs knows that reason and feels + the same as I do about it. Don't you, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha nodded. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” went on Miss Phipps, “Cap'n Hallett is kind of—well, + queer in some ways, but he has been, in his day, a good deal of a man. And + his daughter is a lovely girl and I think the world of her. I wouldn't + want to hurt their feelings. If they should see you laugh—well, you + understand—” + </p> + <p> + Cousin Gussie nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Don't say any more, Miss Phipps,” he replied. “It is quite all right. + I'll stay in your home here and be perfectly happy.” + </p> + <p> + “But you didn't wait for me to finish. I was goin' to say that if you + should laugh you must manage not to let any one hear you; especially Cap'n + Jeth. Lulie has lots of common sense; she wouldn't mind except for the + effect on her father, and she realizes how funny it is. But her father + doesn't and—and he is pretty close to the breakin' point sometimes. + So save up your laughs until we get back, please.” + </p> + <p> + “You seem to take it for granted that I shall feel like laughing. Perhaps + I sha'n't. I only suggested my attending this affair because I thought it + would be a novelty to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, of course. Well, it will be a novelty, I guess likely, and a + pretty novel novelty, too. But there's one thing more, Mr. Cabot, that I + want you to promise me. Don't you dare take that crowd at that seance as a + fair sample of Wellmouth folks, because they're not.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Miss Phipps—” + </p> + <p> + “Because they're not. Every town and every neighborhood, city or country, + has its freaks and every freak within five miles will be over in that + lighthouse parlor to-night. Just take 'em for freaks, that's all, but + DON'T take 'em for samples of our people down here.” She paused, and then + added, with an apologetic laugh, “I guess you think I am pretty peppery on + the subject. Well, I get that way at times, particularly just after the + summer is over and the city crowd has been here lookin' for 'characters.' + If you could see some of the specimens who come over from the hotel, see + the way they dress and act and speak! 'Oh,' one creature said to me; 'oh, + Miss Phipps,' she gushed, 'I am just dyin' to meet some of your dear, + funny, odd, quaint characters. Where can I find them?' 'Well,' said I, 'I + think I should try the Inn, if I were you. There are funnier characters + there than anywhere else I know.' Of course, I knew she was at the Inn + herself, but that didn't make it any the less true.... There! I've + preached my sermon. Now, Mr. Cabot, we'll go into the sittin' room and let + Primmie clear off the table. Zach Bloomer—he's the assistant light + keeper—is comin' to tell us when it's time to go to the seance.” + </p> + <p> + In the sitting room they talked of various things. Galusha, listening to + his cousin's stories and jokes, had almost forgotten his powder barrel. + And then, all at once, a spark fell, flashed, and the danger became + imminent. + </p> + <p> + Said the banker, addressing Martha and referring to her lodger: “What does + this cousin of mine find to do down here, Miss Phipps? How does he manage + to spend so much money?” + </p> + <p> + “Money?” repeated Martha. “He—spend money? Why, I didn't know that + he did, Mr. Cabot. He is very prompt in paying his board. Perhaps I charge + him too much. Is that what you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess not. He hasn't paid you thirteen thousand dollars for board, has + he?” + </p> + <p> + “Thirteen thousand dollars! Well, I guess not—scarcely. What are you + talkin' about, Mr. Cabot? What is the joke?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. That's one of the things which, now that I am down here, I + should like to find out. Somehow or other, since he has been on the Cape, + he has managed to get rid of over thirteen thousand dollars. He SAYS he + has given it to some of his mummy-hunting friends, but I am rather + suspicious. He hasn't been organizing a clam trust, has he, Miss Phipps?” + </p> + <p> + Plainly, Martha did not know what to make of this speech. It was a joke, + of course, but just where the point of the joke was located she was not + sure. To her, thirteen thousand dollars was an enormous sum. The idea that + her lodger, gentle, retiring little Galusha Bangs, possessed a half of + that fortune was a joke in itself. But... And then she saw Galusha's face + and the expression upon it. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, Mr. Bangs!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + Cabot turned and he, too, saw the expression. He burst out laughing. + </p> + <p> + “See!” he cried. “Doesn't he look guilty? It IS a clam trust, Miss Phipps. + By Jove, Loosh, you are discovered! Galusha Bangs, the Clam King! Ha, ha, + ha! Look at him, Miss Phipps! Look at him! Did you ever see a plainer case + of conscious guilt? Ha, ha!” + </p> + <p> + He was enjoying himself hugely. And really Galusha was a humorous + spectacle. He was very red in the face, he was trembling, and he appeared + to be struggling for words and finding none. + </p> + <p> + “I—I insist,” he stammered. “I—I mean I protest. It is + ridiculous—ah—ah—absurd! I—I—” + </p> + <p> + His cousin broke in upon him. “Ha, ha!” he cried. “The secret is out. And + you gave me to understand the mummy-hunters had it. Oh, Galusha!” + </p> + <p> + Galusha made another attempt. + </p> + <p> + “I—I told you—” he faltered. “I—I told you—” + </p> + <p> + “You told me it had gone to Egypt. But I was suspicious, old man. Why, + Miss Phipps, isn't it glorious? Look at him!” + </p> + <p> + Martha was looking. Her face wore a puzzled expression. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't it glorious?” repeated Cousin Gussie. + </p> + <p> + She shrugged. “I suppose it is,” she said. “Maybe it would be more so if I + knew what it was all about. And Mr. Bangs doesn't look as if he found much + glory in it.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course he doesn't. Serves him right, the rascal. You see, Miss Phipps, + I am supposed to take care of his money for him, and, while I was away in + the mountains, my secretary sent him a check for over fourteen thousand + dollars, sent it to him by mistake. <i>I</i> never should have done it, of + course. I know him of old, where money is concerned. Well, almost + immediately after receiving the check, up he comes to our Boston office + and—” + </p> + <p> + “Cousin Gussie! I—I protest! I—” + </p> + <p> + “Up he comes, Miss Phipps, and draws five thousand of the fourteen + thousand in cash, in money, and takes it away with him. Then—” + </p> + <p> + “Cousin Gussie! Mr. Cabot!” + </p> + <p> + The tone in which Galusha spoke was so different from his usual one, and + the fact of his addressing his relative as “Mr. Cabot” so astonishing, + that the latter was obliged to stop even in the full tide of his enjoyment + of the joke. He turned, to find Galusha leaning forward, one hand upon the + center table, and the other extending a forefinger in his direction. The + finger shook a little, but its owner's countenance was set like a rock. + And now it was not crimson, but white. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Cabot,” said Galusha, “I must insist that you say no more on this + matter. My personal business is—ah—presumably my own. I—I + must insist. Insist—ah—absolutely; yes.” + </p> + <p> + His cousin looked at him and he returned the look. Cabot's hesitation was + but momentary. His astonishment was vast, but he accepted the situation + gracefully. He laughed no more. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, Galusha,” he said. “I'm sorry. I had no thought of + offending you, old man. I—well, perhaps I am inclined to joke too + freely. But, really, I didn't suppose—I never knew you to be—” + </p> + <p> + He paused. Galusha's expression did not change; he said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “I am very sorry,” went on the banker. “It was only thoughtlessness on my + part. You'll forgive me, Loosh, I hope.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha bowed, but he did not smile. A little of the color came back to + his cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “Ah—ah—Yes, certainly,” he stammered. “Certainly, quite so.” + </p> + <p> + He sat down in his chair again, but he did not look in Miss Phipps' + direction. He seemed to know that she was regarding him with a fixed and + startled intentness. + </p> + <p> + “Five thousand dollars!” she said, in a low tone. Neither of the men + appeared to hear her. Cabot, too, sat down. And it was he who, plainly + seeking for a subject to relieve the tension, spoke next. + </p> + <p> + “I was telling my cousin,” he said, addressing Martha, “that I came down + here to attend to a little matter of business. The business wasn't my own + exactly, but it was a commission from a friend and client of mine and he + left it in my charge. He and I supposed we had an agent here in your town, + Miss Phipps, who was attending to it for us, but of late he hasn't been + very successful. I received a letter from Williams—from my friend; + he is in the South—asking me to see if I couldn't hurry matters up a + bit. So I motored down. But this agent of ours was not in. Probably you + know him. His name is Pulcifer.” + </p> + <p> + Martha and Galusha started simultaneously. + </p> + <p> + “Pulcifer?” queried Martha. “Raish Pulcifer, do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “It doesn't seem to me that his Christian name is—What did you say, + Miss Phipps?” + </p> + <p> + “I said 'Raish'; that's what every one down here calls the man I mean. His + real name, of course, is Horatio.” + </p> + <p> + “Horatio? That sounds more like it. I didn't hire him—Williams did + that—and I have never met him, although he and Thomas, my secretary, + have had some correspondence. Wait a moment, I have his name here.” + </p> + <p> + He took from his pocket a memorandum book and turned over the leaves. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, “that's it. Horatio Pulcifer. Here is his card. 'Horatio + Pulcifer, Dealer in Real Estate of All Kinds; Cranberry Bog Property + Bought and Sold; Mortgages Arranged For; Fire, Life and Accident + Insurance; Money Loaned; Claims Adjusted; Real or Household Goods + Auctioned Off or Sold Private; etc., etc.' Humph! Comprehensive person, + isn't he? Is this the fellow you know, Miss Phipps?” + </p> + <p> + Martha nodded. “Yes,” she said, “I know him.” + </p> + <p> + Cabot glanced at her. “I see,” he observed. “Well, what sort of a + character is he? Would you trust him?” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated. “Why—why,” she replied, “I suppose I should, if—if—” + </p> + <p> + “If he was not too far away, or around the corner, or anything like that? + I understand.” + </p> + <p> + Martha was a bit disturbed. “You mustn't put words in my mouth, Mr. + Cabot,” she said. “I didn't say Raish Pulcifer was dishonest.” + </p> + <p> + “No, that is true. And I beg your pardon for asking embarrassing + questions. I have seen some of the fellow's letters and usually a letter + is a fairly good indication of character—or lack of it. I have had + my surmises concerning the ubiquitous Horatio for some time.” + </p> + <p> + Martha seemed to be thinking. + </p> + <p> + “I understood you to say he was your agent for somethin' down here, Mr. + Cabot,” she said. “Sellin' somethin', was he? That kind of an agent?” + </p> + <p> + “No. As a matter of fact, he was supposed to be buying something, but he + hasn't made much progress. He started out well, but of late he seems to + have found trouble. I am rather surprised because we—that is, + Williams—pay him a liberal commission. I judge he doesn't hate a + dollar and that kind of man usually goes after it hammer and tongs. You + see—But there, I presume I should not go into particulars, not yet.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, Mr. Cabot. Of course not, of course not.” + </p> + <p> + “No.” Cabot had been turning over the leaves of the memorandum book while + speaking. “And yet,” he went on, “there are one or two names here + concerning which you might be able to help us. Pulcifer writes that two of + the largest stockholders.... Humph!... Eh? Why, by Jove, this is + remarkable! You are Miss Martha Phipps, aren't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Was your father, by any chance, James H. Phipps?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I declare! This IS remarkable.... And—why, you have been + speaking of a Captain—er—Jethro Somebody? Is he—He isn't + Jethro Hallett, is he?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes. I told you his name. He is the light keeper here at Gould's + Bluffs and we are all goin' over to his house in a few minutes, for the + seance, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, well! And here I have been sitting and talking with one of + the very persons whom I came down here hoping to see.” + </p> + <p> + “To see? You came down here hopin' to see ME? Mr. Cabot, is this another + joke?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it. If it is, the joke is on me for not identifying you with + the Martha Phipps that Pulcifer writes he can't do business with. Miss + Phipps, you own something we want to buy.” + </p> + <p> + “I? Somethin' you want to buy?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Williams wants to buy it and I am interested with him. Miss Phipps, + you own two hundred and fifty shares of the stock of the Wellmouth + Development Company, don't you?” + </p> + <p> + He must have been surprised at the effect of this question. Martha stared + at him. Then, without speaking, she turned and looked past him at Galusha + Bangs. She looked so long and so steadily that Cabot also turned and + looked. What he saw caused him to utter an exclamation. + </p> + <p> + “For heaven's sakes, Loosh!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + His cousin, as white as the proverbial sheet, which means much whiter than + some sheets, Elmer Rogers', for example, was slowly rising from his chair. + One hand was pressed against his forehead and he looked as if he were + dazed, stunned, suffering from a stroke. As a matter of fact, he was + suffering from all three. The spark had at last reached the powder and the + barrel was in the very act of disintegrating. + </p> + <p> + “Galusha,” demanded Cousin Gussie, “are you sick? What is it?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha did not answer. Before the alarmed banker could repeat his + question there came a knock at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Martha,” called Primmie, in tremulous excitement. “Miss Martha, Zach + he's come and he says the seance is just a-goin' to begin and Cap'n Jeth + says to hurry right straight over. Zach says the old man is as tittered up + and nervous as ever he see him and 'twon't do to keep him waitin' a + minute. My savin' soul, no! Zach says for all hands to heave right + straight ahead and come.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX + </h2> + <p> + In the melodramas, the sort which most people laugh at as “old-fashioned” + and enjoy thoroughly, there is usually a scene in which the hero, or the + heroine, or both, are about to be drowned in the sinking ship or roasted + in the loft of the burning building, or butchered by the attacking + savages, or executed by the villain and his agents. The audience enjoys + some delightful thrills while watching this situation—whichever it + may be—develop, but is spared any acute anxiety, knowing from + experience that just at the last moment the rescuing boat, or the heroic + firemen, or the troops, or a reprieve from the Governor, will arrive and + save the leading man or woman and the play from a premature end and for + another act. + </p> + <p> + It does not happen as often in real life, at least one cannot count upon + it with the certainty of the theater. But when Miss Primrose Cash knocked + upon the door of the Phipps' sitting room and delivered her call to the + seance, she was as opportune and nick-of-timey as was ever a dramatic + Governor's messenger. Certainly that summons of hers was to Galusha Bangs + a reprieve which saved him from instant destruction. + </p> + <p> + Cousin Gussie, who had been on the point of repeating his demand to know + if his relative was ill, turned instead to look toward the door. Martha, + whose gaze had been fixed upon her lodger with an intentness which + indicated at least the dawning of a suspicion, turned to look in the same + direction. Galusha, left poised upon the very apex of the explosion, + awaited the moment when the fragments, of which he was one, should begin + to fall. + </p> + <p> + But they did not fall—then. Primmie gave them no opportunity to do + so. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Martha,” she cried, “Miss Martha, do you hear me? Zach—he says—” + </p> + <p> + Her mistress answered. “Yes, yes, Primmie,” she said, “I hear you.” Then, + turning again toward the banker and his relative, she said, “Mr. Cabot, I—did + I understand you to say—?” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Martha!” The voice outside the door was more insistent than ever. + “Miss Martha, Zach he says we've all hands got to come right straight off, + 'cause if we don't there'll be hell to pay.... My savin' soul, I never + meant to say that, Miss Martha! Zach, he said it, but <i>I</i> never meant + to. I—I—Oh, my Lord of Isrul! I—I—oh, Miss + Martha!” + </p> + <p> + Further wails of the frightened and repentant one were lost in an ecstatic + shout of laughter from Mr. Cabot. Martha slowly shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she observed, dryly, “I guess likely we'd better go, hadn't we? If + it is as bad as all that I should say we had, sure and certain. Primmie + Cash, I'm ashamed of you. Mr. Cabot, we'll finish our talk when we come + back. What under the sun you can possibly mean I declare I don't + understand.... But, there, it will keep. Come, Mr. Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + She led the way from the sitting room. Cabot followed her and, staggering + slightly and with a hand still pressed to his forehead, Galusha followed + them. He was saved for the time, he realized that, but for such a very + short time. For an hour or two he was to hang in the air and then would + come the inevitable crash. When they returned home, after the seance was + over, Martha would question Cousin Gussie, Cousin Gussie would answer, + then he would be questioned and—and the end would come. Martha would + know him for what he was. As they emerged from the Phipps' door into the + damp chill and blackness of that October evening, Galusha Bangs looked + hopelessly up and down and for the first time in months yearned for Egypt, + to be in Egypt, in Abyssinia, in the middle of the great Sahara—anywhere + except where he was and where he was fated to be. + </p> + <p> + The windows of the light keeper's cottage were ablaze as they drew near. + Overhead the great stream of radiance from the lantern in the tower shot + far out. There was almost no wind, and the grumble of the surf at the foot + of the bluff was a steady bass monotone. + </p> + <p> + Zacheus, who had waited to walk over with them, was in a fault-finding + state of mind. It developed that he could not attend the meeting in the + parlor; his superior had ordered that he “tend light.” + </p> + <p> + “The old man says I hadn't no business comin' to the other sea-ants + thing,” said Zach. “Says him and me ain't both supposed never to leave the + light alone. I cal'late he's right, but that don't make it any better. + There's a whole lot of things that's right that hadn't ought to be. I + presume likely it's right enough for you to play that mouth organ of + yours, Posy. They ain't passed no law against it yet. But—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, be still, Zach Bloomer! You're always talkin' about my playin' the + mouth organ. I notice you can't play anything, no, nor sing neither.” + </p> + <p> + “You're right, Pansy Blossom. But the difference between you and me is + that I know I can't.... Hey? Why, yes, Martha, I shouldn't be a bit + surprised if the fog came in any time. If it does that means I've got to + tend foghorn as well as light. Godfreys!” + </p> + <p> + Before they opened the side door of the Hallett home, the buzz of voices + in the parlor was distinctly audible. Lulie heard the door open and met + them in the dining room. She was looking anxious and disturbed. Martha + drew her aside and questioned her concerning her father. Lulie glanced + toward the parlor door and then whispered: + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, Martha. Father seems queer to-night, awfully queer. I can't + make him out.” + </p> + <p> + “Queer? In what way? He is always nervous and worked up before these silly + affairs, isn't he?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I don't mean that, exactly. He has been that way for over a + week. But for the last two days he has been—well, different. He + seems to be troubled and—and suspicious.” + </p> + <p> + “Suspicious? Suspicious of what?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. Of every one.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Well, if he would only begin to get suspicious of Marietta and her + spirit chasers I should feel like givin' three cheers. But I suppose those + are exactly the ones he isn't suspicious of.” + </p> + <p> + Lulie again glanced toward the parlor door. + </p> + <p> + “I am not so sure,” she said. “It seemed to me that he wasn't as cordial + to them as usual when they came to-night. He keeps looking at Marietta and + pulling his beard and scowling, the way he does when he is puzzled and + troubled. I'm not sure, but I think something came in the mail yesterday + noon and another something again to-day which may be the cause of his + acting so strangely. I don't know what they were, he wouldn't answer when + I asked him, but I saw him reading a good deal yesterday afternoon. And + then he came into the kitchen where I was, took the lid off the cookstove + and put a bundle of printed pages on the fire. I asked him what he was + doing and he snapped at me that he was burning the words of Satan or + something of that sort.” + </p> + <p> + “And couldn't you save enough of the—er—Old Scratch's words to + find out what the old boy was talkin' about?” + </p> + <p> + “No. There was a hot fire. But to-day, when the second package came, I + caught a glimpse of the printing on the wrapper. It was from The Psychical + Research Society; I think that was it. There is such a society, isn't + there?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe so. I... Ssh! Careful, here he is.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Jethro strode across the parlor threshold. He glared beneath his + heavy eyebrows at the couple. + </p> + <p> + “Lulie,” he growled, “don't you know you're keepin' the meetin' waitin'? + You are, whether you know it or not. Martha Phipps, come in and set down. + Come on, lively now!” + </p> + <p> + Martha smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Cap'n Jeth,” she said, “you remind me of father callin' in the cat. You + must think you're aboard your old schooner givin' orders. All right, I'll + obey 'em. Ay, ay, sir! Come, Lulie.” + </p> + <p> + They entered the parlor, whither Galusha, Mr. Cabot and Primmie had + preceded them and were already seated. The group in the room was made up + about as on the occasion of the former seance, but it was a trifle larger. + The tales of the excitement on the evening when the light keeper + threatened to locate and destroy the “small, dark outsider” had spread and + had attracted a few additional and hopeful souls. Mr. Obed Taylor, driver + of the Trumet bake-cart, and a devout believer, had been drawn from his + home village; Miss Tamson Black, her New Hampshire visit over, was seated + in the front row; Erastus Beebe accompanied his sister Ophelia. The + Hardings, Abel and Sarah B., were present and accounted for, and so, too, + was Mrs. Hannah Peters. + </p> + <p> + Galusha Bangs, seated between Miss Cash and the immensely interested + Cousin Gussie, gazed dully about the circle. He saw little except a blur + of faces; his thoughts were elsewhere, busy in dreadful anticipation of + the scene he knew he must endure when he and his cousin and Miss Phipps + returned to the house of the latter. He did not dare look in her + direction, fearing to see once more upon her face the expression of + suspicion which he had already seen dawning there—suspicion of him, + Galusha Bangs. He sighed, and the sigh was so near a groan that his + relative was startled. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter, Galusha?” he whispered. “Brace up, old man! you look + as if you were seeing spooks already. Not sick—faint, or anything + like that?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha blushed. “Eh?” he queried. “Oh—oh, no, no. Quite so, really. + Eh? Ah—yes.” + </p> + <p> + Cabot chuckled. “That's a comprehensive answer, at any rate,” he observed. + “Come now, be my Who's-Who. For example, what is the name of the female + under the hat like a—a steamer basket?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha looked. “That is Miss Hoag, the—ah—medium,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see. Did the spirits build that hat for her?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Hoag's headgear was intrinsically the same she had worn at the former + seance, although the arrangement of the fruit, flowers, sprays and other + accessories was a trifle different. The red cherries, for example, no + longer bobbed at the peak of the roof; they now hung jauntily from the + rear eaves, so to speak. The purple grapes had also moved and peeped coyly + from a thicket of moth-eaten rosebuds. The wearer of this revamped + millinery triumph seemed a bit nervous, even anxious, so it seemed to + Martha Phipps, who, like Cabot and Galusha, was looking at her. Marietta + kept hitching in her seat, pulling at her gown, and glancing from time to + time at the gloomy countenance of Captain Jethro, who, Miss Phipps also + noticed, was regarding her steadily and slowly pulling at his beard. This + regard seemed to add to Miss Hoag's uneasiness. + </p> + <p> + The majority of those present were staring at the senior partner of Cabot, + Bancroft and Cabot. The object of the attention could not help becoming + aware of it. + </p> + <p> + “What are they all looking at me for?” he demanded, under his breath. + </p> + <p> + Galusha did not hear the question, but Primmie did, and answered it. + </p> + <p> + “They don't know who you be,” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + “What of it? I don't know who they are, either.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Cash sniffed. “Humph!” she declared, “you wouldn't know much worth + knowin' if you did—the heft of 'em.... Oh, my savin' soul, it's + a-goin' to begin! Where's my mouth organ?” + </p> + <p> + But, to her huge disappointment, her services as mouth organist were not + to be requisitioned this time. Captain Hallett, taking charge of the + gathering, made an announcement. + </p> + <p> + “The melodeon's been fixed,” he said, “and Miss Black's kind enough to say + she'll play it for us. Take your places, all hands. Come on, now, look + alive! Tut, tut, tut! Abe Hardin', for heaven's sakes, can't you pick up + your moorin's, or what does ail you? Come to anchor! Set down!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Harding was, apparently, having trouble in sitting down. He made + several nervous and hurried attempts, but none was successful. His wife + begged, in one of her stage whispers, to be informed if he'd been “struck + deef.” “Don't you hear the cap'n talkin' to you?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Course I hear him,” retorted her husband, testily, and in the same + comprehensively audible whisper. “No, I ain't been struck deef—nor + dumb neither.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! You couldn't be struck any dumber than you are. You was born dumb. + Set DOWN! Everybody's lookin' at you. I never was so mortified in my + life.” + </p> + <p> + The harassed Abel made one more attempt. He battled savagely with his + chair. + </p> + <p> + “I CAN'T set down,” he said. “This everlastin' chair won't set even. I + snum I believe it ain't got but three laigs. There! Now let's see.” + </p> + <p> + He seated himself heavily and with emphasis. Mr. Jim Fletcher, whose place + was next him, uttered an agonized “Ow!” + </p> + <p> + “No wonder 'twon't set even, Abe,” he snorted. “You've got the other laig + up onto my foot. Yus, and it's drove half down through it by this time. + Get UP! Whew!” + </p> + <p> + A ripple of merriment ran around the circle. Every one laughed or ventured + to smile, every one except the Hardings and Captain Hallett and, of + course, Galusha Bangs. The latter's thoughts were not in the light + keeper's parlor. Cousin Gussie leaned over and whispered in his ear: + </p> + <p> + “Loosh,” whispered Mr. Cabot, chokingly, “if the rest of this stunt is as + good as the beginning I'll forgive you for handing that fourteen thousand + to the mummy-hunters. I wouldn't have missed it for more than that.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Jethro, beating the table, drove his guests to order as of old he + had driven his crews. Having obtained silence and expressed, in a few + stinging words, his opinion of those who laughed, he proceeded with his + arrangements. + </p> + <p> + “Tamson,” he commanded, addressing Miss Black, “go and set there by the + organ. Come, Marietta, you know where your place is, don't you? Set right + where you did last time. And don't let's have any more mockery!” he + thundered, addressing the company in general. “If I thought for a minute + there was any mockery or make-believe in these meetin's, I—I—” + He paused, his chest heaving, and then added, impatiently, but in a milder + tone, “Well, go on, go on! What are we waitin' for? Douse those lights, + somebody.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Hoag—who had been glancing at the light keeper's face and + behaving in the same oddly nervous, almost apprehensive manner which + Martha had noticed when she entered the parlor—took her seat in the + official chair and closed her eyes. Mr. Beebe turned down the lamps. The + ancient melodeon, recently prescribed for and operated upon by the + repairer from Hyannis, but still rheumatic and asthmatic, burst forth in + an unhealthy rendition of a Moody and Sankey hymn. The seance for which + Galusha Bangs had laid plans and to which he had looked forward hopefully + if a little fearfully—that seance was under way. And now, such was + the stunning effect of the most recent blow dealt him by Fate, he, + Galusha, was scarcely aware of the fact. + </p> + <p> + The melodeon pumped on and on. The rustlings and shiftings in the circle + subsided and the expectant and shivery hush which Primmie feared and + adored succeeded it. Miss Black wailed away at the Moody and Sankey + selection. Miss Hoag's breathing became puffy. She uttered her first + preliminary groan. Cousin Gussie, being an unsophisticated stranger, was + startled, as Mr. Bangs had been at the former seance, but Primmie's + whisper reassured him. + </p> + <p> + “It's all right,” whispered Primmie. “She ain't sick nor nothin'. She's + just a-slippin' off.” + </p> + <p> + The banker did not understand. + </p> + <p> + “Slipping off?” he repeated. “Off what?” + </p> + <p> + “Off into sperit land. In a minute you'll hear her control talkin' Chinee + talk.... There! My savin' soul! hear it?... Ain't it awful!” + </p> + <p> + “Little Cherry Blossom” had evidently been waiting at the transmitter. The + husky croak which had so amazed Galusha was again heard. + </p> + <p> + “How do? How do, everybodee?” hailed Little Cherry Blossom. “I gladee + see-ee you. Yes, indeedee.” + </p> + <p> + Cabot made mental note of the fact that the Blossom spoke her spirit + pidgin-English with a marked Down-East accent. Before he had time to + notice more, the control announced that she had a message. The circle + stirred in anticipation. Primmie wiggled in fearful ecstasy. + </p> + <p> + “Listen!” commanded Little Cherry Blossom. “Everybodee harkee. Spirit + comee heree. He say-ee—” + </p> + <p> + “Ow-ooo-ooo—ooo—OOO!!” + </p> + <p> + As prophesied by Mr. Zacheus Bloomer, the fog had come in and Zacheus, + faithful to his duties as associate guardian of that section of the coast, + had turned loose the great foghorn. + </p> + <p> + The roar was terrific. The windows rattled and the whole building seemed + to shake. The effect upon the group in the parlor, leaning forward in awed + expectation to catch the message from beyond, was upsetting, literally and + figuratively. Miss Tamson Black, perched upon the slippery cushion of a + rickety and unstable music stool, slid to the floor with a most + unspiritual thump and a shrill squeal. Primmie clutched her next-door + neighbor—it chanced to be Mr. Augustus Cabot—by the middle of + the waistcoat, and hers was no light clutch. Mr. Abel Harding shouted + several words at the top of his lungs; afterward there was some dispute as + to just what the exact words were, but none whatever as to their lack of + propriety. Almost every one jumped or screamed or exclaimed. Only Captain + Jeth Hallett, who had heard that horn many, many times, was quite unmoved. + Even his daughter was startled. + </p> + <p> + But perhaps the most surprising effect of the mammoth “toot” was that + which it produced in the spirit world. It seemed to blow Little Cherry + Blossom completely back to her own sphere, for it was a voice neither + Chinese nor ethereal which, coming from Miss Hoag's lips, shrieked wildly: + “Oh, my good land of love! Wh—what's that?” + </p> + <p> + It was only after considerable pounding of the table and repeated orders + for silence that Captain Jethro succeeded in obtaining it. Then he + explained concerning the foghorn. + </p> + <p> + “It'll blow every minute from now on, I presume likely,” he growled, “but + I don't see as that need to make any difference about our goin' on with + this meetin'. That is, unless Marietta minds. Think 'twill bother you + about gettin' back into the trance state, Marietta?” + </p> + <p> + Erastus Beebe had turned up one of the lamps and it happened to be the one + just above Miss Hoag's head. By its light Martha Phipps could see the + medium's face, and it seemed to her—although, as she admitted + afterward, perhaps because of subsequent happenings she only imagined that + it seemed so—it seemed to her that Marietta was torn between an + intense desire to give up mediumizing for that evening and a feeling that + she must go on. + </p> + <p> + “She looked to me,” said Martha, “as if she was afraid to go on, but more + afraid to stop.” + </p> + <p> + However, go on she did. She told the light keeper that she guessed she + could get back if Tamson would play a little spell more. Miss Black agreed + to do so, provided she might have a chair instead of a music stool. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't risk settin' on that plaguy, slippery haircloth thing again + for no mortal soul,” declared the irate Tamson, meaning, doubtless, to + include immortals. A chair was provided, again the lights were dimmed, and + the seance resumed, punctuated now at minute intervals by the shattering + bellows of the great foghorn. + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes the messages began to arrive. They were of similar vague + import to those of the previous seance and, couched in Little Cherry + Blossom's weird gibberish, were vaguer still. Occasionally a spirit + seeking identification went away unrecognized, but not often. For the most + part the identifying details supplied were so general that they were + almost certain to fit a departed relative or friend of some one present. + And, as is usual under such circumstances, the would-be recognizer was so + pathetically eager to recognize. Even Galusha, dully inert as he was just + then, again felt his indignation stirred by the shabby mockery of it all. + </p> + <p> + Obed Taylor received a message from his brother Daniel who had died in + infancy. Daniel declared himself very happy. So, too, did Ophelia Beebe's + great-aunt Samona, who had “passed over” some time in the 'fifties. Aunt + Samona was joyful—oh, so joyful. Miss Black's name was called. + </p> + <p> + “Tamson!” croaked Little Cherry Blossom. “Some one heree wantee Tamson.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Black uttered an exclamation of startled surprise. “Good gracious + me!” she cried. “Who is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Namee seem likee—likee Flora—Flora—somethin',” + announced the control. The circle rustled in anticipation while Tamson + ransacked her memory. + </p> + <p> + “Flora?” she repeated. “Flora?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes. Flora—ah—ah—somethin'. Somethin'—soundee + likee somethin' you ring.” + </p> + <p> + “Somethin' I RING. Why, all a body rings is a bell. Hey? My heavens above, + you don't mean Florabel? That ain't the name, is it—Florabel?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes—yes—yes.” Little Cherry Blossom was eagerly + certain that that was the name. + </p> + <p> + “Mercy on us! Florabel? You don't mean you've got a message from my niece + Florabel Tidditt, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes—yes—oh, yes!” The control was just as certain + that niece Florabel was on the wire. + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe a word of it.” + </p> + <p> + This unusual manner of receiving a message shocked the devout. A murmur of + protest arose. + </p> + <p> + “Now, now, now, Tamson,” remonstrated Miss Beebe. “You mustn't talk so. + Course you believe it if the control says so.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't neither. Florabel Tidditt ain't dead. She's as well as I be. I + had a letter from her yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + There was considerable agitation for a few minutes. Then it developed that + the Florabel seeking to communicate was not Miss Tidditt, but another, a + relative so long gone that Tamson had forgotten she ever existed. At + length she was brought to the point of admitting that it seemed as if she + had heard of a cousin of her grandmother's named Florabel or Annabel or + something. The message was not very coherent nor particularly interesting, + so the incident ended. + </p> + <p> + A short time later came the sensation which was to make the evening + memorable in East Wellmouth's spiritualistic circles. Little Cherry + Blossom called the name which many had expected and some, Lulie Hallett + and Martha Phipps in particular, dreaded to hear. + </p> + <p> + “Jethro!” croaked the Blossom. “Jethro!” + </p> + <p> + Captain Hallett had been very quiet, particularly since the Florabel + message was tangled in transit. Martha could see his shaggy head in + silhouette against the dim light of the lamp and had noticed that that + head scarcely moved. The light keeper seemed to be watching the medium + very intently. Now he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Yes?” he said, as if awakened from sleep. “Yes, here I am. What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Jethro,” cried the control once more. “Jethro, somebodee come speakee to + you.... Julia! Julia!” + </p> + <p> + Captain Jethro rose from his chair. The loved name had as always an + instant effect. His heavy voice shook as he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, Julia,” he cried. “Here I am, Julia, waitin'—waitin'.” + </p> + <p> + It was pathetic, pitiful. One listener in that circle felt, in spite of + his own misery, a pang of remorse and a little dread. After all, perhaps + it would have been better to— + </p> + <p> + “Julia,” cried the light keeper. “Speak to me. I'm waitin'.” + </p> + <p> + The foghorn boomed just here, but even after the sound had subdued Little + Cherry Blossom seemed to find it difficult to proceed. She—or the + medium—choked, swallowed, and then said: + </p> + <p> + “Julia got message. Yes, indeedee. Important message, she sayee, for + Jethro. Jethro must do what she sayee.” + </p> + <p> + The captain's big head nodded vigorously. Martha could see it move, a + tousled shadow against the light. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, Julia, of course,” he said. “I always do what you say. You know + I do. Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “Father!” It was Lulie's voice, raised in anxious protest. “Father, + please.” + </p> + <p> + Her father sharply ordered her to be quiet. + </p> + <p> + “Go on, Julia,” he persisted. “Tell me what you want me to do.” + </p> + <p> + Again Little Cherry Blossom seemed to have difficulty in articulating. + There was a quaver in her voice when she did speak. + </p> + <p> + “Julia say,” she faltered; “Julia sayee 'Jethro, you sell R.P.'” + </p> + <p> + This was unexpected. It was not at all the message the group of listeners, + with one exception, had anticipated. There was no hint of Nelson Howard + here. They did not know what to make of it. Nor, it was evident, did + Jethro Hallett. + </p> + <p> + “What?” he demanded. “What, Julia? I don't understand.” + </p> + <p> + Little Cherry Blossom cleared her—or the medium's—throat and + falteringly went on. + </p> + <p> + “Julia sayee 'Jethro, you sell R. P. what you got.' Sellee him what you + got, what he want buyee. You know. You sellee R. P. the stock.” + </p> + <p> + But still it was clear that Captain Jeth did not understand. + </p> + <p> + “Sell R. P.?” he repeated. “R. P. Who's R. P.? And what... Eh? Do you mean—” + </p> + <p> + He paused. When he next spoke his tone was quite different. There was a + deeper note in it, almost a note of menace. + </p> + <p> + “R. P.?” he said again. “Does 'R. P.' mean—is that supposed to stand + for Horatio Pulcifer? Eh? Does 'R. P.' mean Raish Pulcifer?” + </p> + <p> + The control did not reply instantly. The light keeper pressed his + question. + </p> + <p> + “Does it?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes... yes,” stammered the Blossom. “Yes, Julia say sellee Raish what he + wantee buy.” + </p> + <p> + “Wantee BUY? What have I got he wants to buy?” + </p> + <p> + “Julia she sayee you know. She say 'De—De—Develop stock.' + That's it. Yes, Develop stock. She sayee you sell Raish Develop stock. She + sayee she wantee you to. You do right then.” + </p> + <p> + The foghorn howled once more. Captain Jethro was standing erect beside his + chair. When, at last, he did speak, his tone was still more tense and + threatening. Even the shallowest mind in that room—and, as Miss + Phipps had said, practically every “crank” within ten miles was present—even + the shallowest realized that something was impending, something ominous. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say,” demanded Jethro Hallett, speaking very slowly, “that + Julia's, my wife's spirit is tellin' me to sell my four hundred shares of + Wellmouth Development stock to Raish Pulcifer? Do you mean that SHE says + that?” + </p> + <p> + Little Cherry Blossom croaked twice, but the second croak was a feeble + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “SHE says that? Julia, my dead wife, tells me to do that?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Yes—yes—yes. She say you sell Raish four hundred Develop + stock and you be so gladee. She be gladee, too. She—” + </p> + <p> + “STOP!” + </p> + <p> + The light keeper's shout rang through the room. “Stop!” he shouted again. + “You—you LIAR!” + </p> + <p> + The word shot from beneath his teeth and, judging by the effect, might + have hit almost every individual in the room. There was absolute silence + for just the briefest instant; then a chorus of faint screams, + exclamations, startled and indignant protests. Above them all Primmie's + call upon her Lord of Isrul sounded plainly. Captain Jethro paid no heed. + </p> + <p> + “You liar!” he roared again. “Out of my house, you swindler! You damned + cheat!” + </p> + <p> + This blast, delivered with the full force of the old skipper's + quarter-deck voice, had the effect of completely upsetting the already + tense nerves of the majority in the circle. Two or three of the women + began to cry. Chairs were overturned. There was a babel of cries and + confusion. The light keeper stilled it. + </p> + <p> + “Be still, all hands!” he shouted. “Turn up them lamps! Turn 'em up!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Cabot, although himself somewhat startled and disturbed by the + unexpected turn of events, was at least as cool as any one. He reached + over the prostrate heap at his feet—it was Ophelia Beebe + hysterically repeating: “He's gone crazy! He's gone loony! OH, my soul! + OH, my land! WHAT'LL I do?” and the like—and turned up one of the + lamps. Obed Taylor did the same with the other. + </p> + <p> + The sudden illumination revealed Captain Jethro, his face pale, his eyes + flashing fire, holding the dumpy Miss Hoag fast in her chair with one hand + and with the other brandished above her head like the hammer of Thor. The + audience, for the most part, were in various attitudes, indicating alarm + and a desire to escape. Mrs. Harding had a strangle hold on her husband's + neck and was slowly but inevitably choking him to death; Mrs. Peters, as + well as Miss Beebe, was on the floor; and Primmie Cash was bobbing up and + down, flapping her hands and opening her mouth like a mechanical figure in + a shop window. Lulie and Martha Phipps, pale and frightened, were trying + to force their way to the captain's side. Galusha Bangs alone remained + seated. + </p> + <p> + The light keeper again commanded silence. + </p> + <p> + “Look at her!” he cried, pointing his free hand at the cowering figure of + the medium. “LOOK at her! The lyin' cheat!” + </p> + <p> + Marietta was, in a way, worth looking at. She had shrunk as far down in + the chair as the captain's grip would permit, her usually red face was now + as white as the full moon, which it resembled in some other ways, and she + was, evidently, as Primmie said afterwards, “scart to death and some left + over.” + </p> + <p> + Lulie called. + </p> + <p> + “Father, father,” she pleaded. “Please—oh—please!” + </p> + <p> + Her father paid no attention. It was to Miss Hoag that he continued his + attentions. + </p> + <p> + “You miserable, swindlin' make-believe!” he growled, his voice shaking + with emotion. “You—you come here and—and pretend—Oh, by + The Almighty, if you was a man, if you wasn't the—the poor, pitiful + fool that you be, I'd—I'd—” + </p> + <p> + His daughter had reached his side. “Father,” she begged. “Father, for my + sake—” + </p> + <p> + “Be still! Be still, girl!... Marietta Hoag, you answer me. Who put you up + to tellin' me to sell that stock to Pulcifer? Who did it? Answer me?” + </p> + <p> + Marietta tried, but she could do little but gurgle. She gurgled, however, + in her natural tones, or a frightened imitation of them. Little Cherry + Blossom had, apparently, fluttered to the Chinese spiritland. + </p> + <p> + “I—I—Oh, my good land!” she wailed. + </p> + <p> + “Answer!” + </p> + <p> + “Father—father!” cried Lulie. “Don't talk so! Don't act so!” + </p> + <p> + “Act so! Be still! Let me alone, Martha Phipps! This woman here is a + cheat. She's a liar! How do I KNOW? DON'T ask such fool questions. I know + because—because she says my wife—Julia—my wife—tells + me to sell my four hundred shares of Wellmouth Development stock—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, of course. But, perhaps—” + </p> + <p> + “There ain't any perhaps. You, woman,” addressing the cowering medium, + “didn't you say that?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—oh, yes, Cap'n Jeth, I said it. PLEASE don't!” + </p> + <p> + “And you pretended my dead wife's spirit said it, didn't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Yes, she did. Oh—oh—” + </p> + <p> + “She did not! Listen, all of you!” with scornful disgust. “Listen! That + four hundred shares of Development stock this—this critter here says + Julia knows I've got and wants me to sell to Raish Pulcifer I SOLD two + months ago. Yes, by the everlastin', I sold 'em! And—eh? Yes, there + he is. I sold 'em to that Bangs man there. He knows it. He'll tell you I + did.... And now this swindler, this cheat, she—she—Who put you + up to it? Who did? Was it Pulcifer?” + </p> + <p> + Marietta began to sob. “Ye-es, yes,” she faltered. “He—he said he—” + </p> + <p> + “I thought so. And you pretended 'twas my—my Julia, my wife.... Oh, + my God! And you've been pretendin' all the time. 'Twas all cheatin' and + lies, wasn't it? She—she never come to you. She never told you + nothin'. Ain't it so?” + </p> + <p> + Poor, publicity-loving, sensation-loving Marietta's nerve was completely + gone. She sobbed wildly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh—oh, I guess so. I—I guess likely 'twas,” she wailed. “I—I + don't know. I only—” + </p> + <p> + Captain Jethro took his hand from her shoulder. He staggered a little. + </p> + <p> + “Get out of my house!” he ordered. “Out of my house—all of you. + You're all liars and cheats together.... Oh, Julia! Oh, my Lord above!” + </p> + <p> + He collapsed in a chair and put his hands to his head. Lulie, the tears + streaming down her face, tried to comfort him. Martha, also weeping, + essayed to help. Cabot, walking over to where his cousin was standing, + laid a hand on his arm. Galusha, pale and wan, looking as if the world had + slipped from under him and he was left hanging in cold space, turned a + haggard face in his direction. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Loosh,” said Cousin Gussie, dryly, “I think you and I had better go + home, hadn't we? This has been an interesting evening, an—ah—illuminating + evening. You appear to be the only person who can add to the illumination, + and—well, don't you think it is time you did?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI + </h2> + <p> + Galusha did not answer. He regarded his relative vacantly, opened his + mouth, closed it, sighed and turned toward the dining room. By this time + most of the congregation were already in the yard and, as Cabot and his + companion emerged into the dripping blackness of out-of-doors, from + various parts of that blackness came the clatter of tongues and the sound + of fervent ejaculations and expressions of amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Well! WELL! Don't talk to ME! If this don't beat all ever <i>I</i> + see!...” “I should say it did! I was just sayin' to Sarah B., s' I, 'My + soul and body,' s' I, 'if this ain't—'”... “And what do you s'pose + made him—” “And when they turned up them lights and I see him + standin' there jammin' her down into that chair and wavin' that big fist + of his over top her head, thinks I, 'Good-NIGHT! He's goin' to hammer her + right down through into the cellar, don't know's he ain't!'” + </p> + <p> + These were a few fragments which Cousin Gussie caught as they pushed their + way to the gate. In one spot where a beam of light from the window faintly + illuminated the wet, he glimpsed a flowered and fruited hat picturesquely + draped over its wearer's ear while from beneath its lopsided elegance a + tearful voice was heard hysterically demanding to be taken home. “Take me + home, 'Phelia. I—I—I... Oh, take me home! I—I—I've + forgot my rubbers and—and I feel's if my hair was comin' off—down, + I mean—but—oh, I don't CARE, take me HOME!” + </p> + <p> + Galusha, apparently, heard and saw nothing of this. He blundered straight + on to the gate and thence along the road to the Phipps' cottage. It seemed + to Cabot that he found it by instinct, for the fog was so thick that even + the lighted windows could not be seen further than a few yards. But he did + find it and, at last, the two men stood together in the little sitting + room. Then Cousin Gussie once more laid a hand on his relative's arm. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Galusha,” he said, again, “what about it?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha heaved another sigh. “Yes—ah—yes,” he answered. “Yes—ah—quite + so.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! What is quite so? I want to know about that stock of the Wellmouth + Development Company.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.... Yes, certainly, I know.” + </p> + <p> + “That Captain—um—What's-his-name, the picturesque old lunatic + with the whiskers—Hallett, I mean—made a statement that was, + to say the least, surprising. I presume he was crazy. That was the most + weird collection of insanity that I ever saw or heard. Ha, ha! Oh, + dear!... Well, never mind. But what did old Hallett mean by saying he had + sold YOU his four hundred shares of that stock?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha closed his eyes. He smiled sadly. + </p> + <p> + “He meant that he had—ah—sold them to me,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “LOOSH!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Loosh, are you crazy, too?” + </p> + <p> + “Very likely. I often think I may be. Yes, I bought the—ah—stock.” + </p> + <p> + “You bought the—YOU? Loosh, sit down.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bangs shook his head. “No, Cousin Gussie,” he said. “If you don't mind + I—I won't sit down. I shall go to my room soon. I bought Captain + Hallett's stock. I bought Miss Phipps', too.” + </p> + <p> + It was Cabot himself who sat down. He stared, slowly shook his head, and + then uttered a fervent, “Whew!” + </p> + <p> + Galusha nodded. “Yes,” he observed. “Ah—yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Loosh, do you know what you are saying? Do you mean that you actually + bought Hallett's four hundred shares and this woman's—?” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Phipps is her name. Miss Martha Phipps.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, of course. And you bought... Eh? By Jove! Is THAT what you did + with that thirteen thousand dollars?” + </p> + <p> + Again Galusha nodded. “Yes,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Cousin Gussie whistled again. “But why did you do it, Loosh?” he asked, + after a moment. “For heaven's sake, WHY?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha did not answer immediately. Then he said, slowly: “If—if you + don't mind, Cousin Gussie, I think I should tell HER that first. That is, + I mean she should—ah—be here when I do tell it.... I—I + think I will change my mind and sit down and wait until she comes.... + Perhaps. you will wait, too—if you don't mind.... And, please—please + don't think me rude if I do not—ah—talk. I do not feel—ah—conversational. + Dear me, no.” + </p> + <p> + He sat down. Cabot stared at him, crossed his knees, and continued to + stare. Occasionally he shook his head, as if the riddle were proving too + much for him. Galusha did not move. Neither man spoke. The old clock + ticked off the minutes. + </p> + <p> + Primmie came home first. “Miss Martha said to tell you she would be over + in a few minutes,” she announced. “Cap'n Jeth, he's a-comin' around all + right, so Miss Martha and Zach and them think. But, my savin' soul, how he + does hang onto Lulie! Keeps a-sayin' she's all he's got that's true and + honest and—and all that sort of talk. Give me the crawlin' creeps to + hear him. And after that seance thing, too! When that everlastin' foghorn + bust loose the first time, I cal'lated—” + </p> + <p> + Galusha interrupted. “Primmie,” he suggested, gravely, “would you—will + you be—ah—kind enough to go into the kitchen?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? Go into the kitchen? Course I will. What do you want in the kitchen, + Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + He regarded her solemnly. “I should like to have you there, if you don't + mind,” he observed. “This gentleman and I are—we would prefer to be + alone. I'm very sorry, but you must excuse me this time and—ah—go.” + </p> + <p> + “Go? You want me to go out and—and not stay here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Yes—ah—quite so, Primmie. Ah—good-night.” + </p> + <p> + Primmie departed, slamming the door and muttering indignation. Galusha + sighed once more. Then he relapsed into silence. + </p> + <p> + Twenty minutes later Martha herself came in. They heard her enter the + dining room, then Primmie's voice in resentful explanation. When Miss + Phipps did come into the sitting room, she was smiling slightly. + </p> + <p> + “Primmie's heart is broken,” she observed. “Oh, don't worry, it isn't a + very serious break. She hasn't had so much to talk about for goodness + knows when and yet nobody wants to listen to her. I told her to tell Luce + about it, but that didn't seem to soothe her much. Luce is Lucy Larcom, + Mr. Cabot,” she explained. “He is our cat.” + </p> + <p> + Cousin Gussie, already a much bewildered man, looked even more bewildered, + but Martha did not observe his condition. She turned to his companion. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bangs,” she said, “it's all right. Or goin' to be all right, I'm + sure. Cap'n Jeth is takin' the whole thing a good deal better than I was + afraid there at first. He is dreadfully shaken, poor man, and he seems to + feel as if the last plank had foundered from beneath him, as father used + to say; but, if it doesn't have any worse effect than that, I shall + declare the whole business a mercy and a miracle. If it has the effect of + curin' him of the Marietta Hoag kind of spiritualism—and it really + looks like a cure—then it will be worth all the scare it gave us. At + first all he would say was that everything was a fraud and a cheat, that + his faith had been taken away, there was nothin' left—nothin'. But + Lulie, bless her heart, was a brave girl and a dear one. She said, 'I am + left, father. You've got me, you know.' And he turned to her and clung to + her as if she was his only real sheet anchor. As, of course, she is, and + would have been always if he hadn't gone adrift after Little Cherry + Blossom and such rubbish. Mr. Bangs, I—” + </p> + <p> + She paused. She looked first at Galusha and then at the Boston banker. Her + tone changed. + </p> + <p> + “Why, what is it?” she asked, quickly. “What is the matter?... Mr. Bangs—” + </p> + <p> + Galusha had risen when she entered. He was pale, but resolute. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Phipps,” he began, “I—I have been waiting to—to say + something to you. I—ah—yes, to say something. Yes, Miss + Phipps.” + </p> + <p> + It was the first time he had addressed her as “Miss Phipps” for many + months. He had, ever since she granted him permission and urged him to + drop formality, addressed her as Miss Martha and seemed to take pride in + that permission and to consider it an honor. Now the very fact of his + returning to the old manner was, although she did not yet realize it, an + indication that he considered his right to her friendship forfeited. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Phipps,” he began once more, “I—I wish to make a confession, a + humiliating confession. I shall not ask you to forgive me. I realize that + what I have done is quite beyond pardon.” + </p> + <p> + He stopped again; the road was a hard one to travel. Martha gazed at him, + aghast and uncomprehending. Cabot, understanding but little more, shrugged + his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “For heaven's sake, old man,” he exclaimed, “don't speak like that! You + haven't committed murder, have you?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha did not answer nor heed him. It was to Martha Phipps he spoke and + at her that he looked, as a guilty man in the prisoners' dock might regard + the judge about to pronounce his death sentence. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Phipps,” he began, for the third time, “I have deceived you. I—I + have lied to you, not only once but—ah—ah—a great many + times. I am quite unworthy of your respect—ah, quite.” + </p> + <p> + Martha's face expressed many things, absolute amazement predominant. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, Mr. Bangs!” she gasped. “What—” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me,” went on Galusha. “I was about to explain. I—I will try + to make the explanation brief. It is—ah—very painful to me to + make and will be, I fear, as painful for you to hear. Miss Phipps, when I + told you—or gave you to understand—that my cousin here, or his + firm, Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot, bought that—ah—Development + stock of yours, I deceived you; I told you a falsehood. They did not buy + it.... I bought it, myself.” + </p> + <p> + He blurted out the last sentence, after a short but apparent mental + struggle. Martha's chest heaved, but she said no word. The criminal + continued: + </p> + <p> + “I will not attempt at this time to tell you how I was—ah—forced + into buying it,” he said; “further than to say that I—I had very + foolishly led you to count upon my cousin's buying it and—and felt a + certain responsibility and—a desire not to disappoint you. I—of + course, I should have told you the truth, but I did not. I bought the + stock myself.” + </p> + <p> + Again he paused and still Martha was silent. Cousin Gussie seemed about to + speak and then to change his mind. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” went on Galusha, with a pitiful attempt at a smile, “you might + have forgiven me that, although it is doubtful, for you had expressly + forbidden my lending you money or—or assisting you in any way, which + I was—please believe this—very eager to do. But, after having + bought it, I, as I say, deceived you, falsified, prevaricated—excuse + me—lied to you, over and over.... Oh, dear me!” he added, in a + sudden burst, “I assure you it is unbelievable how many falsehoods seemed + to be necessary. I lied continually, I did, indeed. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that is all,” he said. “That is all, I believe.... I—I am + very sorry.... After your extreme kindness to me, it was—I... I + think perhaps, if you will excuse me, I will go to my room. I am—ah—somewhat + agitated. Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + He was turning away, but Cabot called to him. + </p> + <p> + “Here, wait a minute, Loosh,” he cried. “There is one thing more you + haven't told us. Why on earth did you buy Hallett's four hundred shares?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha put his hand to his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, yes,” he said. “Yes, of course. That was very simple. I was—ah—as + one may say, coerced by my guilty conscience. Captain Hallett had learned—I + don't know precisely how, but it is quite immaterial—that Miss + Phipps had, through me and to you, Cousin Gussie, as he supposed, sold her + shares. He wished me to sell his. I said I could not. Then he said he + should go to your office in Boston and see you, or your firm, and sell + them himself. I could not allow that, of course. He would have discovered + that I had never been there to sell anything at all and—and might + have guessed what had actually happened. So I was obliged to buy his stock + also and—and pretend that you had bought it. I lied to him, too, of + course. I—I think I have lied to every one.... I believe that is + really all. Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + “One more thing, Loosh. What did you do with the certificates, Hallett's + and Miss Phipps'? You got them, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Yes, oh, yes, I got them. I don't know where they are.” + </p> + <p> + “WHAT? Don't know where they ARE?” + </p> + <p> + “No. I took them to your office, Cousin Gussie. I enclosed them in a large + envelope and took them there. I gave them to a person named—ah—Taylor, + I think that was the name.” + </p> + <p> + “Taylor? There is no Taylor in our office.” + </p> + <p> + “It was not Taylor. It may have been Carpenter, although that doesn't seem + exactly right, either. It was the name of some one—ah—a person + who does something to you, you know, like a tailor or a carpenter or a—a + butcher—or—” + </p> + <p> + “Barbour! Was it Barbour?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that was it—Barbour. I gave Mr. Barbour the envelope. I don't + know what he did with it; I told him I preferred not to know.... Please + excuse me. Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + He turned abruptly and walked from the room. They heard him ascending the + stairs. For a moment the pair he had left looked at each other in silence. + Then Cabot burst into a shout of laughter. He rocked back and forth in his + chair and laughed until Martha, who was not laughing, began to think he + might laugh forever. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, by Jove, this is funny?” he exclaimed, as soon as he could speak. + “This is the funniest thing I ever heard of. Excuse the hysterics, Miss + Phipps, but it certainly is. For the past month Williams and I, through + this fellow Pulcifer down here, have been working heaven and earth to get + the six hundred and fifty shares of that stock we supposed you and Hallett + owned. And all the time it was locked up in my own safe there in Boston! + And to think that old Loosh, of all persons, should have put this over on + us. Ho, ho, ho! Isn't it rich!” + </p> + <p> + He roared and rocked for another interval. Still Martha did not speak, nor + even smile. She was not looking at him, but at the braided rug beneath her + feet, and he could not see the expression of her face. + </p> + <p> + “I may as well explain now,” he went on, when this particular laugh was + over, “that my friend Williams is one of the leading hotel men of this + country. He owns two very big hotels in Florida and one in the Tennessee + mountains. He has for some time been looking for a site on which to build + another here on the northern coast. He was down this way a while ago and, + quite by accident, he discovered this shore property which, he found out + later, was owned by the Wellmouth Development Company. It was ideal, + according to his estimate—view, harbor, water privileges, still + water and surf bathing, climate—everything. He came to me and we + discussed buying it. Then we discovered that this Development Company + owned it. Fifty thousand dollars, the concern's capitalization, was too + much to pay. A trust company over here in your next town had twelve + hundred shares, but we found out that they knew the value of the property + and, if they learned what we were up to, would hold for a fancy price. So, + through this chap Pulcifer—we bought HIS five hundred shares—we + began buying up the thirteen hundred which would give us a controlling + interest and force the other crowd to do what we wanted. We picked up the + small holdings easily enough, but we couldn't get yours or Hallett's. And + for a very good reason, too. Ho, ho, ho! And old Loosh, of all people! Ho, + ho!” + </p> + <p> + Still Miss Phipps did not laugh, nor did she look at him. “By the way,” he + observed, “I presume my—er—relative paid you a fair price for + the stock, Miss Phipps?” + </p> + <p> + “He paid me twenty dollars a share,” she said, quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Did he, indeed! Well, that is more than we've paid any one else, except + Pulcifer. We allowed him a commission—a margin—on all he + succeeded in buying.... Humph!... And I suppose Galusha paid old Hallett + par, too. But why he should do such a thing is—well, it is beyond + me.” + </p> + <p> + She answered, but still she did not look at him. + </p> + <p> + “He told you,” she said. “He knew I needed money. I was foolish enough to + let him guess—yes, I told him that I had a hard time to get along. + He was interested and he tried to cheer me up by tellin' me he thought you + might buy that stock of mine. He couldn't have been more interested if it + had been somethin' of his own. No, not nearly so much; he and his own + interests are the last thing he thinks about, I guess. And then he kept + cheerin' me up and pretendin' to be more and more sure you would buy and—and + when he found you wouldn't he—but there, he told us the truth. <i>I</i> + understand why he did it, Mr. Cabot.” + </p> + <p> + The banker shook his head. “Well, I suppose I do, too, in a way,” he said. + “It is because he is Galusha Bangs. Nobody else on earth would think of + doing such a thing.” + </p> + <p> + “No, nobody else would. But thirteen thousand dollars, Mr. Cabot! Why, + that's dreadful! It's awful! He must have used every cent he owns, and I + didn't suppose he owned any, scarcely. Oh, Mr. Cabot, I must pay him back; + I must pay him right away. DO you want to buy that stock he bought? Will + you buy it of him, so he can have his money again?” + </p> + <p> + She was looking at him now and her voice was shaking with anxiety. Cabot + laughed once more. + </p> + <p> + “Delighted, Miss Phipps,” he assured her. “That is what I have been trying + to do for a month or more. But don't worry about old Galusha's going + broke. He—why, what is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothin'. I was thinkin' about what he did and—and—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know. Isn't it amazing? I have known him all my life, but I'm + never sure how he will fly off the handle next. Of course, I realize you + must think him a perfect jackass, an idiot—” + </p> + <p> + “What! Think him WHAT?” + </p> + <p> + “An idiot, an imbecile. Nine people out of ten, those who don't know him + well, do consider him just that. Yet he isn't. In some respects he is a + mighty clever man. In his own line, in this musty-dusty museum business of + his, this Egyptology he is so cracked about, he is really very close to + the top. Geographic societies all over the world have given him medals; he + is—why, if he wished to he could write a string of letters after his + name a yard long. I believe—hang it, it sounds absurd, but I believe + he has been—er—knighted or something like it, in one + heathenish little kingdom. And in Washington there, at the Institute, they + swear by him.” + </p> + <p> + She nodded. “They have just made him a wonderful offer to be the head of + another expedition,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “So? Well, I am not surprised. But in most respects, outside of his + mummy-chasing, he is an absolute ass. Money? Why, he would give away every + cent if it occurred to him to do so. HE wouldn't know nor care. And what + might become of him afterward he wouldn't care, either. If it wasn't that + I watch him and try to keep his money out of his hands, I don't know what + would happen. Kind? Yes, of course. And generous; good Lord! But when it + comes to matters of sentiment like—well, like this stock business + for example, he is, as I say, an ass, that's all.... I am telling you + this, Miss Phipps, because I wouldn't wish you to consider old Loosh + altogether a fool, but only—” + </p> + <p> + He was sitting there, his knee in his hands, gazing blandly at the ceiling + and, in judicial fashion, summing up his relative's failings and virtues, + when he was interrupted. And the interruption was a startling one. Martha + Phipps sprang to her feet and faced him, her cheeks crimson and her eyes + flashing. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how dare you!” she cried, with fiery indignation. “How CAN you? You + sit there and talk about him and—and call him names in that—that + condescendin' way as if he was dirt under our feet and yet—and yet + he's as far above us as the sky is. Oh, how can you! Don't you see how + good he is? Don't you SEE how he's sufferin' now, poor soul, and why? You + say he doesn't care for money; of course he doesn't. If it had cost fifty + thousand and he had it, I suppose he'd have used it just the same if he + thought it would help—help some friend of his out of trouble. But + what is tearin' him to pieces is the idea that he has, as he calls it, + cheated ME. That he has lied to Jethro and to me and hasn't been the same + straight, honest—GENTLEMAN he always is. That's all. HE doesn't give + himself credit for takin' his own money to help other folks with. YOU + would, <i>I</i> would, but HE doesn't. He talks as if he'd robbed us, or—or + killed somebody or somethin'. He is the best—yes, I think he is the + best and finest soul that ever breathed. And you sit there and—swing + your foot and—and patronize—and call him a fool. A FOOL!... I—I + mustn't talk any more or—or I'll say somethin' I'll wish I + hadn't.... Good-night, Mr. Cabot.” + </p> + <p> + She had held her handkerchief tightly crumpled in her hand during this + outburst. Now she dabbed hastily with it at either eye, turned and + hastened into the dining room, closing the door behind her. + </p> + <p> + A minute later Primmie came into the room, bearing a lighted lamp. + </p> + <p> + “I cal'late now I can dast come in here, can't I?” she observed, with + dignity. “Anyhow, I hope so, 'cause Miss Martha sent me. She said I was to + show you where your bedroom was, Mr. Cabot.” + </p> + <p> + The Boston banker, who had scarcely recovered from the blast launched at + his head by his hostess, rose, still blinking in a dazed fashion, and + followed the lamp-bearer up the steep and narrow stairs. She opened a + door. + </p> + <p> + “Here you be,” she said, tartly. “And I hope you'll sleep 'cause I'm + precious sure <i>I</i> sha'n't. All I'll see from now till mornin' is + Cap'n Jeth gettin' ready to lam that Marietta Hoag one over the top of the + head. My Lord of Isrul! Don't talk to ME!” + </p> + <p> + Cabot regarded her with interest. “What is YOUR name?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Primrose Cash.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Primrose?” + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Name of a flower, 'tis. Some folks don't like it, but I do.” + </p> + <p> + “Primrose!” The visitor slowly shook his head. “Well—er—Primrose,” + he asked, “is there any other asylum in this vicinity?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? ASYLUM? What—” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind. I wondered, that's all. Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + He took the lamp from her hand and went into his room. The amazed Primmie + heard from behind the door of that room a mighty roar of laughter, + laughter loud and long continued. Martha, in her room, heard it and + stirred indignantly. Galusha, in his room, heard it and moaned. + </p> + <p> + He wondered how, in all the world, there was any one who, on this night of + misery, could laugh. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII + </h2> + <p> + There were two people in that house who ate a real breakfast the following + morning. One was Primmie and the other was Augustus Cabot. It took much, + very much, to counteract Miss Cash's attraction toward food, and as for + the Boston banker, the combination of Cape Cod air and Martha Phipps' + cooking had sharpened his appetite until, as he told his hostess, he was + thoroughly ashamed, but tremendously contented. + </p> + <p> + Martha smiled a faint recognition of the joke. Galusha, sitting opposite + her, did not smile; he was plainly quite unaware that there was humor + anywhere. The little archaeologist looked, so Primmie told Zach later on, + “like one of them wax string beans, thin and drawed-out and yeller.” He + kept his gaze fixed on his plate and, beyond wishing her an uncertain + good-morning, not once did he look at or venture to address Martha Phipps. + </p> + <p> + While they were at table Lulie came in. Considering all that she had + undergone, the young lady was wonderfully radiant. Her eyes sparkled, + there was color in her cheeks, and Mr. Cabot, who, in his time, had + accounted himself a judge, immediately rated her as a remarkably pretty + girl. Her first move, after greeting the company, was to go straight to + Galusha and take his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bangs,” she cried, “how can I thank you? How can Nelson and I ever, + ever thank you?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha's embarrassment managed to pump a little color into his wan + cheeks. “I—I—ah—dear me, it was nothing,” he stammered. + “I—I am—ah—yes, quite so. Please don't mention it.” + </p> + <p> + “But I shall mention it. Indeed, I shall. Why, Martha, do you realize who + was really responsible for father's being so suspicious of Marietta Hoag + last evening? It was Mr. Bangs here, and no one else. Do you remember I + told you that father had been receiving printed things, booklets and + circulars, in the mails for the past few days, and that he had been + reading them and they seemed to agitate him very much? Do you remember + that?” + </p> + <p> + Martha said of course she remembered it. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Well, those circulars and books came from the Psychical Research + Society—the people who look up real spirit things and expose the + other kind, the fraud kind, you know. Those told all about lots of cases + of cheats like Marietta, and father read them, and he confessed to me this + morning that they disturbed his faith in her a lot and he was suspicious + when the seance began. Don't you know he hinted something about it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, Lulie, I remember. But what did Mr. Bangs have to do with those + circulars and things?” + </p> + <p> + “He sent them. Or he had them sent, I am sure. They came from Washington + and who else could have done it? Who else would have had them sent—from + there—to father—and just at the right time? You did have them + sent, didn't you, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + Of course, the others now looked at Galusha and also, of course, this had + the effect of increasing his embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, yes,” he admitted, “I suppose I am responsible. You see, I—well—ah—I + have friends at the Washington branch of the Society and I dropped a line + requesting that some—ah—literature be sent to Captain Hallett. + But it was nothing, really. Dear me, no. How is your father this morning, + Lulie?” + </p> + <p> + Lulie's face expressed her happiness. “Oh, he is ever and ever so much + better,” she declared. “Last night I was so afraid that the shock and the + dreadful disappointment and all might have a very had effect upon him, but + it hasn't. He is weak this morning and tired, of course, but his brain is + perfectly clear and he talks as calmly as you or I. Yes, a good deal more + calmly than I am talking just now, for I am very much excited.” + </p> + <p> + She laughed a little. Then, with a blush which caused the Boston + connoisseur to re-endorse his own estimate of her looks, added: “I just + must tell you this, Martha, you and Mr. Bangs, for I know you will be + almost as much delighted as I am—of course, I put in the 'almost.' + This morning, a little while ago, I ventured to mention Nelson's name to + father and to hint that perhaps now that he knew Marietta's 'medium' + nonsense to be all a fraud, he would believe as I did that the things she + said about Nelson were frauds, too. I said it in fear and trembling, and + for some time he didn't answer. Then he called me to him and said he + guessed I was probably right. 'You seem to have been right most of the + time, Lulie,' he said, 'and I've been clear off the course.' Then he said + something about his getting old and about ready for the scrap heap, but at + the end he said: 'You ask that young Howard to cruise around here and see + me some one of these days. I want to talk to him.' There!” triumphantly. + “Isn't that splendid? Isn't that something for him to say?” + </p> + <p> + Martha beamed delightedly. “For your father to say it's more than + somethin', it's a whole big lot,” she declared. “Well, well, well! Cap'n + Jeth invitin' Nelson to come and see him and talk with him! Mercy me! + 'Wonders 'll never cease, fish fly and birds swim,' as my own father used + to say,” she added, with a laugh. “Mr. Cabot, excuse me for talkin' about + somethin' you don't understand, but, you see, Lulie is—Well, + Primmie, what is it?” + </p> + <p> + Primmie's face expressed great excitement as she pushed it around the edge + of the kitchen door. “My savin' soul!” was her salutation. “Who do you + suppose is comin' right up our walk this very minute? Raish Pulcifer, + that's who! And—and I bet you he's heard about last night's doin's, + Miss Martha.” + </p> + <p> + A little of Miss Cash's excitement was communicated to the others by her + announcement. To every one except Mr. Bangs, of course. Galusha, after his + acknowledgment of Lulie's thanks, had relapsed into his absent-minded + apathy. Martha looked at Lulie. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” she said, after a moment. “Well, let him come, as far as I'm + concerned. I never was afraid of Raish Pulcifer yet and I'm not now. + Lulie, if you don't want to meet him, you might go into the sitting room.” + </p> + <p> + Lulie hesitated. “Well, perhaps I will,” she said. “Father has told me a + little about—Well, I imagine Raish will be disagreeable and I don't + feel like going through more disagreeableness just now. I'll wait in here + till he goes, Martha.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you'd like to go, too, Mr. Cabot,” suggested Martha. + </p> + <p> + Cabot shrugged. “Not unless you wish me to,” he replied. “I've never met + this agent of ours and I wouldn't mind seeing what he looks like. Williams + hired him, so he doesn't know me from Adam.” + </p> + <p> + For the first time that morning Miss Phipps addressed her boarder + directly. “How about you, Mr. Bangs?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Galusha did not appear to hear the question, and before it was repeated a + knock, loud, portentous, threatening, sounded upon the door. + </p> + <p> + “Let him in, Primmie,” commanded Miss Phipps. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Pulcifer entered. His bearing was as ominous as his knock. He nodded + to Martha, glanced inquiringly at Cabot, and then turned his gaze upon + Galusha Bangs. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Raish,” said Martha, cheerfully, “you're an early bird this + mornin'. How do you do?” + </p> + <p> + The great Horatio's only acknowledgment of the greeting was a nod. He did + not even remove his cap. He was looking at the little man in the chair at + the foot of the table and he seemed quite oblivious of any one else. And + Galusha, for that matter, seemed quite as oblivious of him. + </p> + <p> + The Pulcifer mouth opened and the Pulcifer finger pointed. + </p> + <p> + “Say,” commanded Raish. “Say—you!” And as this seemed to have little + or no effect upon the individual toward whom the finger pointed, he added: + “Say, you—er—What's-your-name—Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha, who had been absently playing with his napkin, twisting it into + folds and then untwisting it, looked up. + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” he queried. “Oh, yes—yes, of course. How do you do, Mr. + Pulcifer?” + </p> + <p> + This placidity seemed to shut off Raish's breath for the moment, but it + returned in full supply. + </p> + <p> + “How do I DO!” he repeated. “Well, I ain't what you'd call fust-rate, I'd + say. I'm pretty darn sick, if anybody should ask you. I've had enough to + make me sick. Say, look here, Bangs! What kind of a game is this you've + been puttin' over on me—hey?... Hey?” + </p> + <p> + “Game?... I—ah—pardon me, I don't know that I quite + understand, Mr. Pulcifer.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you? Well, I don't understand neither. But I cal'late to pretty + quick. What did Jeth Hallett mean last night by sayin' that he'd sold his + four hundred Development a couple of months ago? What did he mean by it?” + </p> + <p> + Martha Phipps was about to speak. Cabot, too, leaned forward. But Galusha + raised a protesting hand. + </p> + <p> + “Please,” he said. “Mr. Pulcifer has a perfect right to ask. I have—ah—been + expecting him to do so. Well, Mr. Pulcifer, I presume Captain Hallet meant + that he had—ah—sold the stock.” + </p> + <p> + “He did? I want to know! And what did he mean by sayin' he'd sold it to + YOU?” + </p> + <p> + Again Miss Phipps and Cousin Gussie seemed about to take a hand and again + Galusha silenced them. + </p> + <p> + “If you please,” he begged. “It is quite all right, really.... I suppose, + Mr. Pulcifer, he meant that he had done just that. He did. I—ah—bought + his stock.” + </p> + <p> + “You did! YOU did? Say, what kind of a—Say, am I crazy or are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I am. Dear me, yes, Mr. Pulcifer. At all events, I purchased the + stock from Captain Hallett. I bought Miss Phipps' shares at the same + time.” + </p> + <p> + It took more than a trifle to “stump” Raish Pulcifer. He was accustomed to + boast that it did. But he had never been nearer to being stumped than at + that moment. + </p> + <p> + “You—bought—” He puffed the words as a locomotive puffs smoke + when leaving a station. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Galusha, calmly, “I bought both his and hers.” + </p> + <p> + “You did!... You did!... Well, by cripes! But—but why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because, I—ah—For reasons of my own, Mr. Pulcifer. Please + pardon me if I do not go into that. I do not wish to appear rude, but the + reasons are quite personal, really.” + </p> + <p> + “Personal!... Well, I'll be dummed if this ain't the nerviest piece of + brass cheek ever I—Say, look here, Bangs! Why didn't you tell me + you'd bought them shares? What did you—Why, you must have had 'em + all the time I was offerin' you commissions for buyin' 'em. Hey? DID you + have 'em then?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—ah—yes, I did.” + </p> + <p> + “And you never said nothin', but just let me talk! And—and how about + this seance thing? You was the one put me up to making Marietta pretend to + get messages from Jeth's wife tellin' him to sell his stock to me. YOU + done it. I'd never thought of it if you hadn't put the notion in my head. + And—and all the time—Oh, by CRIPES!” + </p> + <p> + Again his agitation brought on a fit of incoherence. And he was not the + only astonished person about that table. Galusha, however, was quite calm. + He continued to fold and unfold his napkin. + </p> + <p> + “It may be,” he said, slowly, “that I owe you an apology, Mr. Pulcifer. I + did deceive you, or, at least, I did not undeceive you.” He paused, + sighed, and then added, with a twisted smile, “I seem to have been a—ah—universal + deceiver, as one might say. However, that is not material just now. I had + what seemed to me good reasons for wishing Captain Hallett to learn that + Miss Hoag was not a genuine—ah—psychic. It occurred to me that + a mention of his late wife's wish to have him sell something he did not + possess might accomplish that result. I misled you, of course, and I + apologize, Mr. Pulcifer. I am sorry, but it seemed necessary to do so. + Yes, quite.” + </p> + <p> + He ceased speaking. Martha drew a long breath. Mr. Cabot looked very much + puzzled. Raish slowly shook his head. “Well!” he began; tried again, but + only succeeded in repeating the word. Then he blurted out his next + question. + </p> + <p> + “Who'd you buy them shares for?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? For?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, for. Who did you buy Cap'n Jeth's and Martha's stock for? Who got + you to buy it? 'Twasn't the Trust Company crowd, was it?” + </p> + <p> + “The Trust Company? I beg pardon? Oh, I see—I see. Dear me, no. I + bought the stock myself, quite on my own responsibility, Mr. Pulcifer.” + </p> + <p> + Raish could not believe it. “You bought it yourself!” he repeated. “No, + no, you don't get me. I mean whose money paid for it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, my own.” + </p> + <p> + Still it was plain that Horatio did not believe. As a matter of fact, the + conviction that Galusha Bangs was poverty-stricken was so thoroughly + implanted in the Pulcifer mind that not even a succession of earthquakes + like the recent disclosures could shake it loose. But Raish did not press + the point, for at that moment a new thought came to him. His expression + changed and his tone changed with it. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Bangs,” demanded he, eagerly, “do you mean you've still got that six + hundred and fifty Development? Mean you ain't turned 'em over yet to + anybody else?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Why, no, Mr. Pulcifer, I haven't—ah—turned them over to + any one else.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! Fust-rate! Fine and dandy! You and me can trade yet. You're all + right, Perfessor, you are. You've kind of put one acrost on me, but don't + make the mistake of thinkin' I'm holdin' that against you. No, sir-ee! + When a feller's smart enough to keep even with your Uncle Raish in a deal + then I know he gets up early—yes, sir, early, and that's when I get + up myself. Hey, Perfessor? Haw, haw! Now, I tell you: Let's you and me go + down to my office or somewheres where we can talk business. Maybe I might + want to buy that stock yet, you can't tell. Hey? Haw, haw!” + </p> + <p> + He was exuding geniality now. But just here Mr. Augustus Cabot spoke. + Judging by his face, he had enjoyed the passage at arms between his cousin + and his business agent hugely. Now he entered the lists. + </p> + <p> + “That's all right, Pulcifer,” he said. “You needn't trouble. I'll look out + for that stock, myself.” + </p> + <p> + Horatio turned and stared. He had scarcely noticed the visitor before, now + he looked him over from head to foot. + </p> + <p> + “Hey? What's that?” he demanded. Cabot repeated his statement. Raish + snorted. + </p> + <p> + “You'll look after the stock!” he repeated. “YOU will? Who are you?” + </p> + <p> + Cousin Gussie tossed a card across the table. “Cabot is my name,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Galusha suddenly remembered. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear me!” he exclaimed. “I—I forgot. Please forgive me. Cousin + Gussie, this is Mr. Pulcifer. Mr. Pulcifer, this gentleman is my—ah—Cousin + Gu—I mean my cousin, Mr. Cabot, from Boston.” + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Pulcifer did not hear. He was staring at the names of the + individual and of the firm upon the card and icy fingers were playing + tunes up and down his vertebrae. For the second time that morning he could + not speak. Cabot laughed. + </p> + <p> + “It's all right, Pulcifer,” he said, reassuringly. “You won't have to + worry about the Development matter any longer. I'll handle the rest of it. + Oh, you did your best. I'm not blaming you. I'll see that you get a fair + return, even if you couldn't quite deliver. But you must keep still about + the whole thing, of course.” + </p> + <p> + Raish breathed heavily. Slowly the icy fingers ceased trifling with his + spine and that backbone began to develop—quoting Miss Phipps' + description—at least one new joint to every foot. He suppled + visibly. He expressed himself with feeling. He begged the honor of shaking + hands with the great man from Boston. Then he shook hands with Galusha and + Miss Phipps. If Primmie had been present doubtless he would have shaken + hands with her. When Cabot suggested that the interview had best + terminate, he agreed with unction and oozed, rather than walked, through + that doorway. Watching from the window, they saw him stop when he reached + the road, draw a long breath, take a cigar from his pocket, light it, + hitch his cap a trifle to one side, and stride away, a moving picture of + still unshaken and serene self-confidence. + </p> + <p> + Cabot laughed delightedly. “That fellow is a joy forever,” he declared. + “He's one of the seven wonders of the world.” + </p> + <p> + Martha sniffed. “Then the world better keep a sharp watch on the other + six,” was her comment. “I wouldn't trust Raish Pulcifer alone with Bunker + Hill monument—not if 'twas a dark night and he had a wheelbarrow.” + </p> + <p> + Lulie came rushing from the sitting room. She had heard all the + Pulcifer-Bangs' dialogue and her one desire was to thank Galusha. But + Galusha was not present. While Martha and Mr. Cabot were at the window + watching the departure of Raish, the little man had left the room. + </p> + <p> + “But I must see him,” cried Lulie. “Oh, Martha, just think! He is + responsible for EVERYTHING. Not only for sending father the Psychical + Society books, but for planning all that happened at the seance. You heard + what Raish said. He said that Mr. Bangs put him up to bribing Marietta to + pretend getting the message ordering father to sell his stock. Why, if + that is true—and, of course, it must be—and if—if Nelson + and I should—if it SHOULD end right for us—why, Martha, he + will be the one who made it possible. Oh, do you believe he did plan it, + as Raish said?” + </p> + <p> + Martha nodded and turned away. “He seems to have spent most of his time + plannin' for other folks,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “He didn't come through the sitting room,” said Lulie, “so he must be in + the kitchen with Primmie. I'm going to find him.” + </p> + <p> + But she did not find him. Primmie said that Mr. Bangs had come out into + the kitchen, taken his hat and coat, and left the house by the back door. + Looking from that door, they saw his diminutive figure, already a good + distance off, moving across the fields. + </p> + <p> + “He's on his way to the graveyard,” declared Primmie. Cabot was startled. + </p> + <p> + “On his way to the graveyard!” he repeated. “Why, he looked remarkably + well to me. What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + Lulie laughingly explained. A few minutes later, declaring that she must + leave her father alone no longer, she hurried away. Martha watched her go. + </p> + <p> + “She scarcely knows there is ground under her feet,” she observed. “A + light heart makes easy ballast, so my father used to say.” + </p> + <p> + Cabot expressed his intention of starting for the city shortly after noon. + </p> + <p> + “Now that I know where those missing shares are, I can go with an easy + conscience,” he said. “I came 'way down here to get them and the faster I + came the farther off they were. Ha, ha! It's a great joke. I've had a + wonderful time, Miss Phipps. Well, I must see Galusha and get him to sell + that stock to me. I don't anticipate much difficulty. The old boy didn't + even know nor care where Barbour had put it.” + </p> + <p> + Martha seemed to hesitate a moment. Then she said: “Mr. Cabot, I wonder if + you could spare a few minutes. I want to talk with you about the money I + owe—the money he GAVE me—for that stock, and a little about—about + your cousin himself. Last night when you spoke of him I was—well, I + was excited and upset and I didn't treat you very well, I'm afraid. I'm + sorry, but perhaps you'll excuse me, considerin' all that had happened. + Now I want to ask you one or two questions. There are some things I don't—I + can't quite understand.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII + </h2> + <p> + An hour or so later Galusha, sitting, forlorn and miserable, upon the + flat, damp and cold top of an ancient tomb in the old Baptist burying + ground, was startled to feel a touch upon his shoulder. He jumped, turned + and saw his cousin smiling down at him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Loosh,” hailed the banker, “at your old tricks, aren't you? In the + cemetery and perfectly happy, I suppose. No 'Hark from the tombs, a + doleful sound' in years, eh?... Hum! You don't look very happy this time, + though.” Then, with a comprehensive glance at the surroundings, he + shrugged and added, “Heavens, no wonder!” + </p> + <p> + The picture was a dismal one on that particular day. The sky was overcast + and gray, with a distinct threat of rain. The sea was gray and cold and + cheerless. The fields were bare and bleak and across them moved a damp, + chill, penetrating breeze. From horizon to horizon not a breathing + creature, except themselves, was visible. And in the immediate foreground + were the tumbled, crumbling memorials of the dead. + </p> + <p> + “Heavens, what a place!” repeated Cabot. “It's enough to give anybody the + mulligrubs. Why in the world do you come over here and—and go to + roost by yourself? Do you actually LIKE it?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha sighed. “Sometimes I like it,” he said. Then, sliding over on the + tomb top, he added, “Won't you—ah—sit down, Cousin Gussie?” + </p> + <p> + His relative shook his head. “No, I'll be hanged if I do!” he declared; + “not on that thing. Come over and sit on the fence. I want to talk to + you.” + </p> + <p> + He led the way to a section of the rail fence which, although rickety, was + still standing. He seated himself upon the upper rail and Galusha + clambered up and perched beside him. The banker's first question was + concerning the six hundred and fifty shares of Development stock. + </p> + <p> + “I know you gave the Phipps woman par for hers,” he said. “You told me so + and so did she. Did you pay old Whiskers—Hallett, I mean—the + same price?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha shook his head. “I—ah—was obliged to pay him a little + more,” he said. “His—ah—wife insisted upon it.” + </p> + <p> + “His wife? I thought his wife was dead.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—ah—she is. Yes, indeed, quite so.” + </p> + <p> + When this matter was satisfactorily explained Cousin Gussie asked if + Galusha would be willing to sell his recently purchased shares at the + price paid. Of course Galusha would. + </p> + <p> + “I should be very glad to make you a present of them, Cousin Gussie,” he + said, listlessly. “I do not care for them, really.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't doubt that, but you won't do anything of the kind. As a matter of + fact, your buying those shares and taking them out of the market was a + mighty good thing for us. That Trust Company crowd was getting anxious, so + the Phipps woman says. By the way, I will send her a check at once for her + shares and she will hand it over to you. She was very much disturbed + because you had—as she called it—given her that five thousand + dollars.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha nodded sadly. “Of course,” he said. “It was a—a very + dreadful thing to do. Oh, dear!” + </p> + <p> + His relative, who was watching him intently, smiled. “She and I have had a + long talk,” he continued. “She couldn't understand about you, how you + could have so much money to—er—waste in that way. I gathered + she feared you might have impoverished yourself, or pledged the family + jewels, or something. And she plainly will not be easy one moment until + she has paid you. She is a very extraordinary woman, Loosh.” + </p> + <p> + His companion did not answer. His gaze was fixed upon a winged death's + head on a battered slate gravestone near at hand. The death's head was + grinning cheerfully, but Galusha was not. + </p> + <p> + “I say she is remarkable, that Phipps woman,” repeated Cousin Gussie. The + little man stirred uneasily upon the fence rail. + </p> + <p> + “Her—ah—name is Martha—Martha Phipps—ah—MISS + Martha Phipps,” he suggested, with a slight accent upon the “Miss.” The + banker's smile broadened. + </p> + <p> + “Apologies, Galusha,” he said, “to her—and to you.” He turned and + gazed steadily down at his relative's bowed head. + </p> + <p> + “Loosh,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” Galusha looked up. “Eh? Did you speak?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I did. No, don't look at that gravestone, look at me. Say, Loosh, why did + you do it?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?... I beg pardon.... Why did I... You mean why did I—ah—buy + the stock—and—and—” + </p> + <p> + “Of course. Why did you? Oh, I know she was hard up and feared she + couldn't keep her home and all that; she has told me her story. And she is + a good woman and you were sorry for her. But, my boy, to take five + thousand dollars—even for YOU to take five thousand cold, hard, + legal tender dollars and toss them away for something which, so far as you + knew, was not worth five cents—that argues a little more than + sympathy, doesn't it? And when you add eight thousand more of those + dollars to the original five, then—Why did you do it, Loosh?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha's gaze fell. He looked solemnly at the battered cherub upon the + gravestone and the cherub's grin was broad. + </p> + <p> + “I bought Captain Hallett's stock,” he explained, “because I did not wish + Miss Mar—Miss Phipps to know that I had lied—and all the + rest.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, so you said. But why did you lie, Loosh? Why didn't you tell + her that you couldn't sell her stock for her? She would have been + disappointed, of course, but she would have understood; she is a sensible + woman.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha, apparently, was considering the matter. It was a perceptible + interval before he answered. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, Cousin Gussie,” he confessed, after the interval was over. + “Really, I don't know. I think I felt, as I told you last night, as if I + had encouraged her to believe I should surely sell her shares and—and + that, therefore, I would be responsible for her disappointment. And I—well, + really, I simply could not face the thought of that disappointment and all + it would mean to her. I could not, indeed, no. I suppose you consider it + quite extraordinary, my feeling that so acutely. Dear me, I suppose most + people would. But I felt it. And I should do the same thing again, I know + I should.” + </p> + <p> + “For her, you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes, of course, for her.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Say, Loosh, may I ask you a purely personal question? Will you + promise not to be offended if I do?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Why, of course, Cousin Gussie. Of course. Dear me, ask anything you + like.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. Loosh, are you in love with Miss Phipps?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha started so violently as to throw him off his balance upon the + fence rail. He slid forward until his feet touched the ground. His + coat-tails, however, caught upon a projecting knot and the garment + remained aloft, a crumpled bundle, between his shoulder blades and the + back of his neck. He was not aware of it. His face expressed only one + emotion, great astonishment. And as his cousin watched, that expression + slowly changed to bewilderment and dawning doubt. + </p> + <p> + “Well, how about it?” queried Cabot. “Are you in love with her, Loosh?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha's mouth opened. “Why—good gracious!” he gasped. “Dear me—ah—Why—why, + I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + The banker had expected almost any sort of reply, except that. + </p> + <p> + “You don't KNOW!” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “No, I—I don't. I—I never thought of such a thing.” + </p> + <p> + Cousin Gussie slowly shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “Loosh,” he declared, “you are superb; do you realize it? So you don't + know whether you are in love with her or not. Well, put it this way: Would + you like to marry her, have her for your wife, live with her for the rest + of your days?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha considered this astounding proposition, but only for the briefest + possible moment. His gentle, dreamy, wistful countenance seemed almost to + light up from within. His answer was given in one breath and as if + entirely without conscious volition. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, very much,” he said, in a low tone. “Oh, yes, very much.” + </p> + <p> + The Boston banker had been on the point of laughing when he asked the + question. But he did not laugh. He whistled instead. Then he smiled, but + it was not a smile of ridicule. + </p> + <p> + Jumping from the fence rail, he laid a hand on his relative's shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Well, by Jove!” he exclaimed. “Forgive me, old man, will you? I had no + idea you were taking it so seriously. I... Well, by Jove!” + </p> + <p> + Galusha did not speak. The same queer ecstatic brightness was upon his + face and he was looking now, not at the grinning cherub, but at the + distant horizon line of gray-green ocean and slate-gray sky. Cabot's grip + on his shoulder tightened. + </p> + <p> + “So you really want to marry her,” he said.... “Humph!... Well, I'll be + hanged! Loosh, you—you—well, you certainly can surprise a + fellow when you really make a business of it.” + </p> + <p> + The brightness was fading from Galusha's face. He sighed, removed his + spectacles, and seemed to descend from the clouds. He sighed again, and + then smiled his faint smile. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me,” he said, “how ridiculous it was, wasn't it? You like a joke, + don't you, Cousin Gussie?” + </p> + <p> + “Was it a joke, Loosh? You didn't look nor speak like a joker.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Oh, yes, it was a joke, of course. Is it likely that a woman like + that would marry ME?” + </p> + <p> + Again he astonished his relative into turning and staring at him. “Marry + you?” he cried. “SHE marry YOU? For heaven's sake, you don't imagine there + is any doubt that she would marry you if you asked her to, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course. Why should she?” + </p> + <p> + “Why SHOULD she? Why shouldn't she jump at the chance, you mean!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh—oh, no, I don't. No, indeed. You are joking again, Cousin + Gussie, of course you are. Women don't like me; they laugh at me, they + always have, you know. I don't blame them. Very often I laugh at myself. I + am eccentric. I'm 'queer'; that is what every one says I am—queer. I + don't seem to think just as other people do, or—or to be able to + dress as they do—or—ah—oh, dear, everything. It used to + trouble me a good deal when I was young. I used to try, you know—ah—try + very hard not to be queer. I hated being queer. But it wasn't any use, so + at last I gave up trying. My kind of queerness is something one can't get + over, apparently; it's a sort of incurable disease. Dear me, yes, quite + incurable.” + </p> + <p> + He had moved forward and his coat-tails had fallen into their normal + position, so the “queerness” of his outward appearance was modified; but, + as he stood there, with his puzzled, wistful expression, slowly and + impersonally picking himself to pieces, so to speak, Cabot felt an + overwhelming rush of pity for him, pity and a sort of indignant + impatience. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, shut up, Galusha!” he snapped. “Don't be so confoundedly absurd. You + are one of the cleverest men in the world in your line. You are + distinguished. You are brilliant. If you were as queer as Dick's hatband—whatever + that is—it would make no difference; you have a right to be. And + when you tell me that a woman—yes, almost any woman, to say nothing + of one lost down here in these sand-hills—wouldn't marry you in a + minute, you're worse than queer—you're crazy, absolutely crazy.” + </p> + <p> + “But—but Cousin Gussie, you forget. If there were no other reasons, + you forget what I have done. She could never believe in me again. No, nor + forgive me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, DON'T! You disturb my digestion. Do you suppose there is a woman on + earth who wouldn't forgive a man who gave up thirteen thousand dollars + just to help her out of a difficulty? Gave it up, as you did, without a + whimper or even a whisper? And whose one worry has been that she might + find out the truth about his weird generosity? Oh, Loosh, Loosh, you ARE + crazy.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha made no attempt to deny the charge of insanity. He was thinking + rapidly now and his face expressed his thought. + </p> + <p> + “Do you—do you really think she might forgive me?” he asked, + breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + “Think! Why, she and I had a long talk just before I came over here. She + thinks you are the best and most wonderful man on earth and all she feared + was that you had taken your last cent, or even borrowed the money, to come + to her rescue. When I told her you were worth a quarter of a million, she + felt better, but it didn't lessen her gratitude. Forgive you! Oh, good + Lord!” + </p> + <p> + Galusha had heard only the first part of this speech. The ecstatic + expression was returning. He drew a long breath. + </p> + <p> + “I—I wonder if she really would consider such a thing?” he murmured. + </p> + <p> + “Consider what? Marriage? Well, I should say she wouldn't take much time + for consideration. She'll jump at it, I tell you. You are the one to + consider, old man. You are rich, and famous. Yes, and, although I have + never pinned quite as much faith to the 'family' idea as most of our + people do, still we have a sort of tradition to keep up, you know. Now + this—er—Miss Phipps is all right, no doubt; her people were + good people, doubtless, but—well, some of our feminine second and + third cousins will make remarks, Galusha. They surely will.” + </p> + <p> + Galusha did not even trouble to answer this speech. His cousin continued. + </p> + <p> + “But that is your business, of course,” he said. “And I honestly believe + that in a good many ways she would make the ideal wife for you. She is not + bad looking, in a wholesome sort of way, she is competent and very + practical, has no end of common sense, and in all money matters she would + make the sort of manager you need. She... Say, look here, have you heard + one word of all I have been saying for the last three minutes ?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?... Oh, yes, indeed. Of course, quite so.” + </p> + <p> + “I know better; you haven't.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes. That is, I mean no.... Pardon me, Cousin Gussie, I fear I + was not paying attention.... I shall ask her. Yes, if—if you are + QUITE sure she has forgiven me, I shall ask her.” + </p> + <p> + He started toward the cemetery gate as if he intended asking her at the + first possible moment. His cousin followed him, his expression indicating + a mixture of misgiving and amusement. Suddenly he laughed aloud. Galusha + heard him and turned. His slight figure stiffened perceptibly. + </p> + <p> + “I beg pardon,” he said, after a moment. “Doubtless it is—ah—very + amusing, but I confess I do not quite see the joke.” + </p> + <p> + Cabot laughed again. + </p> + <p> + “Is it—ah—so funny?” inquired Galusha. “It does not seem so to + me.” + </p> + <p> + The banker took him by the arm. “No offense, old chap,” he said. “Funny? + Of course it's funny. It's wildly funny. Do you know what I was just + thinking? I was thinking of Aunt Clarissa. What do you suppose she would + have said to this?” + </p> + <p> + He shouted at the thought. Galusha joined him to the extent of a smile. + “She would have said it was just what she expected of me,” he observed. + “Quite so—yes.” + </p> + <p> + They walked on in silence for some time. Then Galusha stopped short. + </p> + <p> + “I have just thought of something,” he said. “It—it MAY have some + influence. She has often said she wished she might see Egypt. We could go + together, couldn't we?” + </p> + <p> + Cousin Gussie roared again. “Of course you could,” he declared. “And I + only wish I could go along. Loosh, you are more than superb. You are + magnificent.” + </p> + <p> + He telephoned for his car and chauffeur and, soon after dinner, said + good-by to his hostess and his cousin and prepared to start for Boston. + The Sunday dinner was a bountiful one, well cooked, and he did justice to + it. Galusha, however, ate very little. He seemed to be not quite certain + whether he was at the table or somewhere in the clouds. + </p> + <p> + The chauffeur discovered that he had scarcely oil and gasoline sufficient + for his hundred-mile trip and decided to drive to Trumet to obtain more. + Cabot, who felt the need of exercise after his hearty meal, took a walk + along the bluff edge as far as the point from which he could inspect the + property owned by the Development Company. + </p> + <p> + He was gone almost an hour. On his return he met Galusha walking slowly + along the lane. The little man was without his overcoat, his hands were + clasped behind him and, although his eyes were open, he seemed to see + nothing, for he stumbled and staggered, sometimes in the road and + sometimes in the dead weeds and briars beside it. He did not see his + cousin, either, until the latter spoke. Then he looked up and nodded + recognition. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” he observed. “Yes, of course. Ah—How do you do?” + </p> + <p> + Cabot was looking him straight in the face. + </p> + <p> + “Loosh,” he asked, sharply. “What is it? What is the matter?” + </p> + <p> + Galusha passed his hand across his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing, nothing,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! You look as if—Well, you can't tell me nothing is wrong. + ISN'T there something wrong?” + </p> + <p> + The saddest smile in all creation passed across Galusha's face. “Why—why, + yes,” he said. “I suppose everything is wrong. I should have expected it + to be, of course. I—I did, but—ah—for a little while I + was—ah—foolish and—and hoped. It is quite all right, + Cousin Gussie, absolutely so. She said it was—ah—impossible. + Of course it is. She is quite right. Oh, quite.” + </p> + <p> + Cabot caught his meaning. “Do you mean to say,” he demanded, “that you + asked that—that Phipps woman to marry you and she REFUSED?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Oh, yes, she refused. I told you she would not think of such a thing. + That is exactly what she said; it was impossible, she could not think of + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, confound her impudence!... Oh, all right, Galusha, all right. I beg + your pardon—and hers. But, really—” + </p> + <p> + Galusha stopped him. “Cousin Gussie,” he said, “if you don't mind I think + I won't talk about it any more. You will excuse me, won't you? I shall be + all right, quite all right—after I—ah—after a time, you + know.” + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going now?” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Oh, I don't know. Just somewhere, that's all. Good-by, Cousin + Gussie.” + </p> + <p> + He turned and walked on again, his hands clasped behind his back and his + head bent. Cabot watched him for several minutes, then, entirely upon + impulse and without stopping to consider, he began what was, as he said + afterwards, either the craziest or the most inspired performance of his + life. He walked straight to the Phipps' gate and up the walk to the + Phipps' door. His chauffeur called to him that the car was ready, but he + did not answer. + </p> + <p> + Primmie opened the door in answer to his knock. Yes, Miss Martha was in + the sitting room, she said. “But, my savin' soul, what are you doin' back + here, Mr. Cabot? Has the automobile blowed up?” + </p> + <p> + He did not satisfy her curiosity. Instead, he knocked on the door of the + sitting room and, when Miss Phipps called to him to come in, he obeyed, + closing the door behind him. She was sitting by the window and her sewing + was in her lap. Yet he was almost certain she had not been sewing. Her + face was very grave and, although he could not see distinctly, for the + afternoon was cloudy and the room rather dark, it seemed to him that there + was a peculiar look about her eyes. She, like her maid, was surprised to + see him again. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Mr. Cabot,” she cried, rising, “what is it? Has something happened?” + </p> + <p> + He plunged headfirst into the business that had brought him there. It was + the sort of business which, if approached with cool deliberation, was + extremely likely never to be transacted. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Phipps,” he said, “I came back here on an impulse. I have something + I want to say to you. In a way it isn't my affair at all and you will + probably consider my mentioning it a piece of brazen interference. But—well, + there is a chance that my interfering now may prevent a very serious + mistake—a grave mistake for two people—so I am going to take + the risk. Miss Phipps, I just met my cousin and he gave me to understand + that you had refused his offer of marriage.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, momentarily, but she did not speak. Her expression said a good + many things, however, and he hurried on in order to have his say before + she could have hers. + </p> + <p> + “I came here on my own responsibility,” he explained. “Please don't think + that he has the slightest idea I am here. He is, as you know, the mildest + person on earth, but I'm not at all sure he wouldn't shoot me if he knew + what I came to say to you. Miss Phipps, if you possibly can do so I + earnestly hope you will reconsider your answer to Galusha Bangs. He is + very fond of you, he would make you a kind, generous husband, and, + honestly, I think you are just the sort of wife he needs.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke then, not as if she had meant to, but more as if the words were + involuntarily forced from her by shock. + </p> + <p> + “You—you think I am the sort of wife he needs?” she gasped. “<i>I</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you. Precisely the sort.” + </p> + <p> + “For—for HIM. YOU think so?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Now, of course, if you do not—er—care for him, if you + could not think of him as a husband—oh, hang it, I don't know how to + put it, but you know what I mean. If you don't WANT to marry him then that + is your business altogether and you are right in saying no. But if you + SHOULD care for him and refused him because you may have thought there was + any—er—unsuitability—er—unfitness—oh, the + devil, I don't know what to call it—if you thought there was too + large an element of that in the match, then I beg of you to reconsider, + that's all. He needs you.” + </p> + <p> + “Needs me? Needs ME?... Oh—oh, you must be crazy!” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it. He needs you. You have all the qualities, common sense, + practicability, everything he hasn't got. It is for his sake I'm asking + this, Miss Phipps. I truly believe you have the making or marring of his + future in your hands—now. That is why I hope you will—well, + change your mind.... There! I have said it. Thank you for listening. + Good-day.” + </p> + <p> + He turned to the door. She spoke once more. “Oh, you MUST be jokin'!” she + cried. “How CAN you say such things? His people—his family—” + </p> + <p> + “Family? Oh... well, I'll tell you the truth about that. When he was young + he had altogether too much family. Now he hasn't any, really—except + myself, and I have expressed my opinion. Good-by, Miss Phipps.” + </p> + <p> + He went out. Martha slowly went back to her rocking-chair and sat down. A + moment later she heard the roar of the engine as the Cabot car got under + way. The sound died away in the distance. Martha rose and went up the + stairs to her own room. There she sat down once more and thought—and + thought. + </p> + <p> + Some time later she heard her lodger's footstep—how instantly she + recognized it—in the hall and then in his bedroom. He was in that + room but a short time, then she heard him go down the stairs again. + Perhaps ten minutes afterward Primmie knocked. She wished permission to go + down to the village. + </p> + <p> + “I just thought maybe I'd go down to the meetin' house,” explained + Primmie. “They're goin' to have a Sunday school concert this afternoon at + four o'clock. Zach he said he was cal'latin' to go. And besides, Mr. Bangs + he give me this letter to leave to the telegraph office, Miss Martha.” + </p> + <p> + “The telegraph office isn't open on Sundays, Primmie.” + </p> + <p> + “No'm, I know 'tain't. But Ras Beebe he takes care of all the telegraphs + there is and telephones 'em over to Denboro, where the telegraph place IS + open Sundays.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, all right, Primmie, you may go. Is Mr. Bangs in?” + </p> + <p> + “No'm, he ain't. He's gone out somewheres. To walk, I cal'late. Last I see + of him he was moonin' along over towards the lighthouse way.” + </p> + <p> + Primmie departed and Martha, alone in the gathering dimness of the + afternoon, resumed her thinking. It was an endless round, that thinking of + hers—but, of course, it could end in but one way. Even to wish such + things was wicked. For his sake, that was what Mr. Cabot had said. Ah, + yes, but it was for his sake that she must remain firm. + </p> + <p> + A big drop of rain splashed, and exploded like a miniature watery + bombshell, against the windowpane. Martha looked up. Then she became aware + of a faint tinkling in the room below. The telephone bell was ringing. + </p> + <p> + She hurried downstairs and put the receiver to her ear. It was Mr. Beebe + speaking and he wished to ask something concerning a message which had + been left in his care by Primmie Cash. + </p> + <p> + “It's signed by that Mr. Galushy Bangs of yours,” explained Erastus. “I've + got to 'phone it to the telegraph office and there's a word in it I can't + make out. Maybe you could help me, Martha, long's Bangs isn't there. + 'Tain't nothin' private, I don't cal'late. I'll read it to you if you want + I should.” + </p> + <p> + He began to read without waiting for permission. The message was addressed + to the Board of Directors of the National Institute at Washington, D. C., + and began like this: + </p> + <p> + “Deeply regret necessity of refusing your generous and flattering offer to + lead—” + </p> + <p> + It was just here that Mr. Beebe's ability to decipher the Bangs' + handwriting broke down. + </p> + <p> + “I can't make out the next word, Martha,” he said. “It begins with an F, + but the rest of it ain't nothin' but a string of kinks. It's all head and + no tail, that word is.” + </p> + <p> + “What does it look like?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey? Looks like a whiplash or an eel, more'n anything else. It might be + 'epizootic' or—or—'eclipsin''—or—The word after it + ain't very plain neither, but I kind of think that it's 'expedition.'” + </p> + <p> + “'Expedition'? Is the word you can't make out 'Egyptian'?” + </p> + <p> + “Hey?... 'Egyptian?' Well, I snum, I guess 'tis! 'Egyptian.' . . . Humph! + I never thought of that. I—” + </p> + <p> + “Read me the whole of that telegram, Erastus. Read it.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beebe read it. “Deeply regret necessity of refusing your generous and + flattering offer to lead Egyptian expedition. Do not feel equal to the + work. Decision final. Will write.—Galusha Bangs.” + </p> + <p> + Martha's hand shook as it held the receiver to her ear. He had refused the + greatest honor of his life. He had declined to carry out the wonderful + “plan” concerning which he and she had so often speculated.... And she + knew why he had refused. + </p> + <p> + “Erastus! Ras!” she called. “Hello, Ras! Hold that telegram. Don't send it + yet. Do you hear?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beebe's voice expressed his surprise. “Why, yes, Martha,” he said, “I + hear. But I don't know. You see, Mr. Bangs, he sent a note along with the + telegram sayin' he wanted it rushed.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind. You hold it until you hear from me again—or from him. + Yes, I'll take all the responsibility. Erastus Beebe, don't you send that + telegram.” + </p> + <p> + She hung up the receiver and hurried to the outer door. Galusha was + nowhere in sight. Then she remembered that Primmie had said he had gone + toward the lighthouse. She threw a knitted scarf over her shoulders, + seized an umbrella from the rack—for the walk showed broad splashes + where drops of rain had fallen—and started in search of him. She had + no definite plan. She was acting as entirely upon impulse as Cabot had + acted in seeking their recent interview; but of one thing she was + determined—he should not wreck his career if she, in any way, could + prevent it. + </p> + <p> + She reached the gate of the government property, but she did not open it. + She was certain he would not be in the light keeper's cottage; she seemed + to have an intuition as to where he was, and, turning, followed the path + along the edge of the bluff. She followed it for perhaps three hundred + yards, then she saw him. He was sitting upon a knoll, his hands clasped + about his knees. The early dusk of the gloomy afternoon was rapidly + closing in, the raindrops were falling more thickly, but he did not seem + to realize these facts, or, if he did, to care. He sat there, a huddled + little bundle of misery, and her heart went out to him. + </p> + <p> + He did not hear her approach. She came and stood beside him. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Bangs,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Then he looked up, saw her, and scrambled to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why, Miss Martha!” he exclaimed. “I did not see you—ah—hear + you, I mean. What is it? Is anything wrong?” + </p> + <p> + She nodded. She found it very hard to speak and, when she did do so, her + voice was shaky. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said, “there is. Somethin' very wrong. Why did you telegraph + the Institute folks that you wouldn't accept their offer?... Oh, I found + it out. Ras Beebe couldn't get one word in your message and he read it to + me over the 'phone. But that doesn't matter. That doesn't count. Why did + you refuse, Mr. Bangs?” + </p> + <p> + He put his hand to his forehead. “I—I am sorry if it troubled you,” + he said. “I didn't mean for you to know it—ah—yet. I refused + because—well, because I did not care to accept. The—the whole + thing did not appeal to me, somehow. I have lost interest in it—ah—quite. + Dear me, yes—quite.” + </p> + <p> + “Lost interest! In Egypt? In such a wonderful chance as this gives you? + Oh, you can't! You mustn't!” + </p> + <p> + He sighed and then smiled. “It does seem queer, doesn't it?” he admitted. + “Yet it is quite true. I have lost interest. I don't seem to care even for + Egypt. Now that is very odd.” + </p> + <p> + “But—but if you refuse this what WILL you do?” + </p> + <p> + He smiled again. “I don't know,” he said. “I don't seem to care. But it is + quite all right, Miss Martha. Really it is. I—I wouldn't have you + think—Oh, dear, no!” + </p> + <p> + “But what WILL you do? Tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. No doubt I shall do something. One has to do that, I + suppose. It is only that—” Then, as a new thought came to him, he + turned to her in alarm. “Oh, of course,” he cried, hastily, “I sha'n't + remain here. Please don't think I intend imposing upon you longer. I shall + go—ah—at once—to-morrow—ah almost immediately. You + have been extremely kind and long-suffering already and—and—” + </p> + <p> + She interrupted. “Don't!” she said, hurriedly. “Don't! Mr. Bangs, have you + truly made up your mind not to go to Egypt with that expedition? Won't you + PLEASE do it, if I beg you to?” + </p> + <p> + He slowly shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “It is like you,” he said, “to take such an interest, but, if—if you + don't mind, I had rather not. I can't. Really, I—ah—can't. It—Well, + the thought of it—ah—repels me. Please don't ask me, Miss + Martha, because—I can't.” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated. Then she said, “Would you go if I went with you?” + </p> + <p> + He had been looking, not at her, but at the sea. Now he slowly turned. + </p> + <p> + “Why—why—” he stammered. “Why, Miss—Oh, dear me, you + don't—you can't mean—” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. “I suppose I mean anything,” she said, “anything that + will stop you from throwin' away your life work.” + </p> + <p> + He was very pale and his eyes were fixed upon her face. “Do you mean—” + he began, “do you mean you could—you would marry me?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head again. “I think I must be crazy,” she said, + desperately. “I think we all must be, your cousin as well as the rest of + us. He came to me a little while ago and asked me to—to say yes to + you. HE did! He, of all people! The—the very one that I—I—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, yes, of course.” Galusha was trembling with eagerness. “Yes, of + course. Cousin Gussie is an extraordinarily able man. He approves of it + highly. He told me so.” + </p> + <p> + She scarcely heard him. “Oh, don't you see,” she went on, “why it would be + wicked for me to think of such a thing? You are a great man, a famous man; + you have been everywhere and seen everything; I haven't had any real + education, any that counts besides yours; I haven't been anywhere; I am + just a country old maid. Oh, you would be ashamed of me in a month.... No, + no, no, I mustn't. I won't.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Miss Martha—” + </p> + <p> + “No. Oh, no!” + </p> + <p> + She turned away. Galusha had what was, for him, an amazing and + unprecedented inspiration. + </p> + <p> + “Very well,” he declared. “I shall go to—to the devil, I think. Yes, + I will. I shall give away my money, all of it, and go to the devil.” + </p> + <p> + It was absurd enough, but the absurdity of it did not strike either of + them then. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, WON'T you go to Egypt?” she begged. “Won't you, PLEASE?” + </p> + <p> + He was firm. “No,” he declared. “Not unless you go with me. Ah—ah—Miss + Martha, will you?” + </p> + <p> + She hesitated, wrung her hands—and surrendered. “Oh, I suppose I + shall have to,” she said. + </p> + <p> + He did not dare believe it. + </p> + <p> + “But—but I don't want you to have to,” he cried. “YOU mustn't marry + me for—for Egypt, Miss Martha. Of course, it is too much to ask; no + doubt it is quite impossible, but you—you mustn't marry me unless + you really—ah—want to.” + </p> + <p> + And then a very astonishing thing happened. Martha turned to him, and + tears were in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” she cried, breathlessly, “do you suppose there is a woman in this + world who wouldn't want to marry a man like YOU?” + </p> + <p> + After a while they discovered that it was raining. As a matter of fact, it + had been raining for some time and was now raining hard, but as Galusha + said, it didn't make a bit of difference, really. They put up the + umbrella, which until now had been quite forgotten, and walked home along + the wet path, between the dripping weeds and bushes. It was almost dark + and, as they passed the lighthouse, the great beacon blazed from the + tower. + </p> + <p> + Galusha was babbling like a brook, endlessly but joyful. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Martha—” he began. Then he laughed aloud, a laugh of sheer + happiness. “It—it just occurred to me,” he exclaimed. “How + extraordinary I didn't think of it before. I sha'n't have to call you Miss + Martha now, shall I? It is very wonderful, isn't it? Dear me, yes! Very + wonderful!” + </p> + <p> + Martha laughed, too. “I'm afraid other people are goin' to think it is + very ridiculous,” she said. “And perhaps it is. Two middle-aged, settled + folks like us startin' up all at once and gettin' married. I know I should + laugh if it was anybody else.” + </p> + <p> + But Galusha stoutly maintained there was nothing ridiculous about it. It + was wonderful, that was all. + </p> + <p> + “Besides,” he declared, “we are not old; we are just beginning to be + young, you and I. Personally, I feel as if I could jump over a bush and + annihilate a—ah—June bug, as Luce did that night when we went + out to see the moon.” + </p> + <p> + Luce himself was at the door waiting to be let in. He regarded the pair + with the air of condescending boredom which the feline race assumes when + confronted with the idiosyncrasies of poor humanity. Possibly he was + reflecting that, at least, he knew enough to go in when it rained. Martha + opened the door, but Galusha paused for a moment on the threshold. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” he said, “that, except—ah—occasionally, in wet + weather, it scarcely ever rains in Egypt?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV + </h2> + <p> + (A letter from Mrs. Galusha Bangs to Miss Lulie Hallett.) + </p> + <p> + Shepheard's Hotel, Cairo, Egypt, February tenth. + </p> + <p> + MY DEAR LULIE: + </p> + <p> + Well, as you can see by this hotel letter paper, here we are, actually + here. Of course we are only a little way toward where we are going, but + this is Egypt, and I am beginning to believe it. Of course, I can't yet + quite believe it is really truly me that is doing these wonderful things + and seeing these wonderful places. About every other morning still I wake + up and think what a splendid dream I have had and wonder if it isn't time + for me to call Primmie and see about getting breakfast. And then it comes + to me that it isn't a dream at all and that I don't have to get up unless + I want to, that I don't have to do anything unless I want to, and that + everything a sensible person could possibly want to do I CAN do, and have + a free conscience besides, which is considerable. I don't mean that I lay + a-bed much later than I used to. I never could abide not getting up at a + regular time, and so half past seven generally finds me ready to go down + to breakfast. But, oh, it is a tremendous satisfaction to think that I + could sleep later if I ever should want to. Although, of course, I can't + conceive of my ever wanting to. + </p> + <p> + Well, I mustn't fill this whole letter with nonsense about the time I get + up in the morning. There is so much to write about that I don't know where + to begin. I do wish you could see this place, Lulie. I wish you could be + here now looking out of my room window at the crowds in the street. I + could fill a half dozen pages telling you about the clothes the people + wear, although I must say that I have seen some whose clothes could be all + told about in one sentence, and not a very long sentence at that. But you + see all kinds of clothes, uniforms, and everyday things such as we wear, + and robes and fezzes and turbans and I don't know what. You know what a + fez is, of course. It's shaped like a brown-bread tin and they wear it + little end up with a tassel hanging down. And turbans! To me, when I used + to see pictures of people wearing turbans, they were just pictures, that's + all. It didn't seem as if any one actually tied up the top of their head + in a white sheet and went parading around looking like a stick with a + snowball stuck on the end of it. But they do, and most of them look as + dignified as can be, in spite of the snowball. And I have seen camels, + quantities of them, and donkeys, and, oh, yes, about a million dogs, not + one of them worth anything and perfectly contented to be that way. And + dirt! Oh, Lulie, I didn't believe there was as much dirt in all creation + as there is in just one of the back streets over here. Galusha asked me + the other day if I didn't wish I could go into one of the houses and see + how the people lived; he meant the poor people. I told him no, not if he + ever expected me to get anywhere else. If the inside of one of those + houses was like the outside, I was sure and certain that I should send for + a case of soap and a hundred barrels of hot water and stay there scrubbing + the rest of my life. And, oh, yes, I have seen the Pyramids. + </p> + <p> + Of course, you want to know how I got along on the long voyage over. I + wrote you a few lines from Gibraltar telling you a little about that. I + wasn't seasick a single bit. I think it must be in our blood, this being + able to keep well and happy on salt water. Our family has always been to + sea, as far back as my great-great-grandfather, at least, and I suppose + that explains why, as soon as I stepped aboard the steamer, I felt as if I + was where I belonged. And Galusha, of course, has traveled so much that he + is a good sailor, too. So, no matter whether it was calm or blowy, he and + I walked decks or sat in the lee somewhere and talked of all that had + happened and of what was going to happen. And, Lulie, I realized over and + over, as I have been realizing ever since I agreed to marry him, what a + wonderful man he is and what a happy and grateful woman I ought to be—and + am, you may be sure of that. Every day I make a little vow to myself that + I will do my best not to make him ashamed of me. Of course, no matter what + I did he would think it all right, but I mean to prevent other people from + being ashamed for him. That is, if I can, but I have so much to learn. + </p> + <p> + You should see how he is treated over here, by the very finest people, I + mean. It seems to me that every scientist or explorer or professor of this + or that from China to London has been running after him, all those that + happen to be in this part of the world, I mean. And always he is just the + same quiet, soft-spoken, gentle person he was at the Cape, but it is plain + to see that when it comes to matters about his particular profession, my + husband is known and respected everywhere. Perhaps you will think, Lulie, + that I am showing off a little when I write “my husband” like that. Well, + I shouldn't wonder if I was. Nobody could help being proud of him. + </p> + <p> + I had a trial the other evening. That is, it seemed as if it would be the + greatest trial that ever I had to face and my, how I dreaded it. Sir + Ernest Brindlecombe, an English scientist, and, so Galusha says, a very + great man, indeed, is here with his wife, and they have known Galusha for + years. So nothing would do but we must come to their house to dinner. He + is in the English government service and they have a wonderful home, more + like a palace than a house—that is, what I have always supposed a + palace must be like. I felt as if I COULDN'T go, but Galusha had accepted + already, so what was there to do? + </p> + <p> + Of course, you are wondering what I wore. Well, as I wrote you from + Washington, I had bought a lot of new things. The wife of Professor + Lounsbury, at the Institute, helped me pick them out, and oh, what should + I have done without her! Galusha, of course, would have rigged me up like + the Queen of Sheba, if he had had his way. I tried going shopping with him + at first, but I had to give it up. Every pretty dress he saw, no matter if + it was about as fitting for my age and weight as a pink lace cap would be + for a cow, he wanted to buy it right off. If the price was high enough, + that seemed to be the only thing that counted in his mind. I may as well + say right here, Lulie, that I have learned by this time, when he and I do + go shopping together, to carry the pocketbook myself. In that way we can + manage to bring home something, even if it is only enough to buy a postage + stamp. + </p> + <p> + But I am wandering, as usual. You want to know about the dinner at the + Brindlecombes'. Well, thanks to Mrs. Lounsbury's help and judgment, I had + two dresses to pick from, two that seemed right for such a grand affair as + I was afraid this was going to be. And I picked out a black silk, trimmed— + </p> + <p> + (Two pages of Mrs. Bangs' letter are omitted here) + </p> + <p> + There is more of it at the top and bottom than there was to a whole lot of + evening gowns I have seen, on the steamer and in Washington, but I can't + help that. I guess I am old-fashioned and countrified, but it does seem to + me that the place to wear a bathing suit is in the water, especially for a + person of my age. However, it is a real sensible and rich-looking dress, + even if it is simple, and I think you would like it. At any rate, I put it + on and Galusha got into his dress suit, after I had helped him find the + vest, and stopped him from putting one gold stud and two pearl ones in his + shirt. HE didn't notice, bless him, he was thinking of everything but what + he was doing at the minute, as he always is. + </p> + <p> + So, both in our best bibs and tuckers, and all taut and ready for the sea, + as father would have said, we were driven over to the Brindlecombe house, + or palace, whichever you call it. Mr. Brindlecombe—or Sir Ernest I + suppose he should be called, although <i>I</i> never remembered to do it, + but called him Mr. Brindlecombe the whole evening—was a fleshy, + bald-headed man, who looked the veriest little bit like Mr. Dearborn, the + Congregational minister at Denboro, and was as pleasant and jolly as could + be. His wife was a white-haired little lady, dressed plainly—the + expensive kind of plainness, you know—and with a diamond pin that + was about as wonderful as anything I ever saw. And I kept thinking to + myself: “Oh, what SHALL I say to you? What on EARTH shall we talk about?” + and not getting any answer from myself, either. + </p> + <p> + But I needn't have worried. She was just as sweet and gentle and every-day + as any one could be, and pretty soon it came out that we both loved + flowers. That was enough, of course, and so while Mr. Sir Ernest and + Galusha were mooning along together about “dynasties” and “papyri” and + “sphinxes” and “Ptolemies” and “hieroglyphics” and mummies and mercy knows + what, his wife and I were having a lovely time growing roses and dahlias + and lilies. She told me a new way to keep geranium roots alive for months + after taking them up. She learned it from her gardener and if ever I get a + chance I am going to try it. Well, Lulie, instead of having a dreadful + time I enjoyed every minute of it, and yesterday Mrs. Brindlecombe—Lady + Brindlecombe, I suppose she really is—came and took me to drive. We + shopped and had a glorious afternoon. I presume likely I said “Mercy me” + and “Goodness gracious” as often as I usually do and that they sounded + funny to her. But she said “My word” and “Fancy” and they sounded just as + funny to me. And it didn't make a bit of difference. + </p> + <p> + There was one thing that came from our dinner at the Brindlecombes' which + I must tell you, because it is so very like this blessed husband of mine. + I happened to speak of Mrs. Brindlecombe's pin, the wonderful one I just + wrote about. The very next day Galusha came trotting in, bubbling over + with mischief and mystery like the boy he is in so many things, and handed + me a jeweler's box. When I opened it there was a platinum brooch with a + diamond in it as big—honestly, Lulie, I believe it was as big as my + thumbnail, or two thirds as big, anyway. This husband of mine had, so he + told me, made up his mind that nobody's wife should own a more wonderful + pin than HIS wife owned. “Because,” he said, “nobody else has such a + wonderful wife, you know. Dear me, no. No, indeed.” + </p> + <p> + Well, I almost cried at first, and then I set about thinking how I could + get him to change the pin and do it without hurting his feelings. As for + wearing it—why, Lulie, I would have looked like the evening train + just coming up to the depot platform. That diamond flashed like the + Gould's Bluffs light. The sight of it would have made Zach Bloomer feel at + home. And when I found out what it cost! My soul and body! Well, I used + all the brains I had and strained them a little, I'm afraid, but at last I + made him understand that perhaps something a tiny bit smaller would look, + when I wore it in the front of my dress, a little less like a bonfire on a + hill and we went back to the jewelry store together. The upshot of it was + that I have a brooch—lots smaller, of course—and a ring, + either of which is far, far too grand for a plain woman like me, and which + I shall wear only on the very stateliest of state occasions and NEVER, I + think, both at the same time, and I saved Galusha a good many dollars + besides. + </p> + <p> + So, you see, Lulie, that he is the same impractical, absent-minded, dear + little man he was down there in East Wellmouth, even though he is such a + famous scientist and discoverer. I think I got the best salve for my + conscience from knowing that, otherwise I should always feel that I never + should have let him marry me. In most respects I am not a bit the wife he + should have, but I hope I am of some use in his practical affairs and that + at last I can keep him from being imposed upon. I try. For instance, on + the steamer his cap blew overboard. I wish you could have seen the cap the + ship's steward sold him. The thing he bought at Ras Beebe's store was + stylish and subdued compared to it. And I wish you could have seen that + steward when I got through talking to him. Every day smooth-talking + scamps, who know him by reputation, come with schemes for getting him to + invest in something, or with pitiful tales about being Americans stranded + far away from home. I take care of these sharks and they don't bite me, + not often. I told one shabby, red-nosed rascal yesterday that, so far as + he was concerned, no doubt it was tough to be stranded with no way of + getting to the States, as he called them; but that I hadn't heard yet how + the States felt about it. So I help Galusha with money matters and see + that he dresses as he should and eats what and when he should, and try, + with Professor King, his chief assistant with the expedition, to keep his + mind from worry about little things. He seems very happy and I certainly + mean to keep him so, if I can. + </p> + <p> + We talk about you and Nelson and Captain Jethro every day. The news in + your last letter, the one we found at Gibraltar, was perfectly splendid. + So you are to be married in June. And Galusha and I can't come to your + wedding; that is a shame. By the time we get back you will be so long + settled in the cottage at the radio station that it won't seem new at all + to you. But it will be very new to us and we shall just love to see it and + the new furniture and your presents and everything. We both think your + father's way of taking it perfectly splendid. I am glad he still won't + have a word to say to Marietta Hoag or her crowd of simpletons. Galusha + says to tell your father that he must not feel in the least obliged to him + for his help in exposing Marietta as a cheat. He says it was very good + fun, really, and didn't amount to much, anyway. You and I know it did, of + course, but he always talks that way about anything he does. And your + thanks and Captain Jethro's pleased him very much. + </p> + <p> + Primmie writes that... + </p> + <p> + (A page omitted. See Primmie's letter.) + </p> + <p> + Please keep an eye on her and see that she doesn't set fire to the house + or feed the corn to the cat and the liver to the hens, or some such + foolishness. And don't let her talk you deaf, dumb and blind. + </p> + <p> + There! this letter is so long that I think it will have to go in a trunk, + by express or freight or something. One week more and we start for upper + Egypt, by water, up the Nile, at first, then on by automobiles. Yes, + little American automobiles. Galusha says we shall use camels very little, + for which I say “Hurrah, hurrah!” I cannot see myself navigating a camel—not + for long, and it IS such a high perch to fall from. Our love to you and + Nelson and to your father. And oh, so very much to yourself. And we DO + wish we might come to your wedding. We shall be there in spirit—and + that doesn't mean Marietta's kind of spirits, either. + </p> + <p> + Your affectionate friend, + </p> + <p> + MARTHA BANGS. + </p> + <p> + (A letter from Miss Primrose Cash to Mrs. Galusha Bangs.) + </p> + <p> + East Wellmouth, Massachusetts, United States of America. January seventh. + </p> + <p> + DEAR MRS. MARTHA: + </p> + <p> + I take my pen in hand to write that I am first rate and fine and dandy and + hope you and Mr. Galusha are the same, although I am homesick for the + sight of you and hope you ain't. I mean homesick. By this time I calculate + you must be somewheres over in Egypt or Greek or China or land knows + where. I am sending this letter to the address you give me and if you + don't get it before you get there you will then, I hope and trust. And I + hope, too, you had a good voyage and was not washed overboard or seasick + like Captain Ephraim Small's son, Frankie D., who had it happen to him up + on the fish banks, you remember. I mean the washing overboard happened to + him for, of course, I don't know whether he was seasick or not, though I + presume likely, for I always am, no matter if it's carm as a milpond, but + anyhow they never found his body, poor soul. I presume likely you want to + hear the news from around here at East Wellmouth. Well, there ain't none, + but I will try and tell all there is that I can think of. The hens are + well and Lucy Larkum is fine and dandy and appytite, my savin' soul. I + tell him he will eat me out of house and home, though I realize it ain't + neither of them mine, but yours, Mrs. Martha. Captain Jethro is doing + fine. For a spell after the seants where your husband made a fool out of + Maryetter Hoag and Raish Pulcifer to thank the Lord, he was reel kind of + feeble and Lulie and me and Zach was worried. But he is swell now and all + hands is talking about his making up with Nelse Howard and agreeing for + him and Lulie to get married and live over to the Radyo stashun pretty + soon I presume likely, for the weding is to be held in June so Zach says. + At first go off, Captain Jeth he calculated maybe he would heave up, I + mean his job tending light, and go live along with them, but after he got + feeling better he said he wouldent but would stick to the ship and keep on + the course long as he could stay aflote. That's what Zach says he said and + I tell you I am mity glad, because if I was Lulie and Nelse I wouldent + want anybody even if it was my own father coming to live along with me and + bossing things, because Captain Jeth couldent no more stop bossing than he + could stop pulling his whiskers and he won't never stop that long as he + ain't parulised. So he will live here along with Zach and them two will + tend light and Lulie can come over and see her pa every little spell and + they can telyfone back and forth between times. And she and Nelse have + been up to Boston to pick out fernichure and ain't they enjoying it, my + lord of isryel. Lulie is about as loony over getting married as ever I see + anybody unless it was you and Mr. Bangs, Mrs. Martha. I seen Raish + Pulcifer down street yesterday and he said give you his love when I wrote. + I told him I guessed likely you could get along without any special love + of his and he said never mind I could keep it myself then. I told him I + could get along without it a considerable sight bettern I could with it. + He is as sassy and fresh as ever and more so to on account of Mr. Cabot + paying him so much money for his stock. And the new hotel is going to be + bilt over on the land by the Crick and all hands says it's going to be the + best in the state. Raish has got a whole new rigout of clothes and goes + struting around as if everything was due to his smartness. Zach says Raish + Pulcifer is running for the job of first mate to the Allmighty but he + don't hardly calculate he will be elected. Maryetter Hoag is going to + heave up speritulism so Tamson Black told me she heard and going to help + in a millunary store over to Onset next summer. Maybe it's so and maybe it + ain't, because Tamson is such an awful liar you can't depend on nothing + she says. Zach says if an eel tried to follow one of Tamson's yarns he + would get his backboan in such a snarl it would choak him to death. And + Zach says he calculates Maryetter will take little Cherry Blossom in + silent partener. Zach comes over to see me sometimes nights after supper + and we set in the kitchen and talk and talk about you and Mr. Galusha + mostly, but about Lulie and Nelse and Captain Jeth, too, and about + everybody else we happen to run afoul of or that comes handy. Zach is real + good company, although he does call me Posy and Pink and Geranyum and dear + land knows what and keeps his talk agoing so nobody else can't scarcely + get a word in between breaths. He says tell you that he will keep a + weather eye on me and see that I didn't get the lockjor nor swallow my + mouthorgan nor nothing. I tell him nobody could get lockjor where he was + on account of watching how he keeps his own jor agoing. He means well but + he is kind of ignorant Zach is. Speaking of weather reminds me that the + northeast gale we had last week blowed the trellis off the back part of + the house and ripped the gutter off the starboard side of the barn. I had + Jim Fletcher put it on again and he charged me three dollars, the old + skin. I ain't paid him yet and he can whisle for his money till he whisles + one dollar off the bill anyhow. There, Mrs. Martha, I have got to stop. + Luce is around screeching and carrying on for his dinner till you would + think he hadent had anything for a month instead of only since breakfast. + I will write again pretty soon. Lots of love to you and Mr. Bangs and do + tell me when you go to ride on a camel. That would be some sight, I will + say, and Zach he says so, too, but he bets you can do it if you set out to + and so do I. Anyhow, you can if Mr. Galusha skippers the cruise because + that man can do anything. And to think that I used to calculate he had the + dropsy or was a undertaker or a plain fool or something. Well, you can't + never tell by a person's looks, can you, Mrs. Martha. Zach says so, too. + </p> + <p> + Yours truly, + </p> + <p> + PRIMROSE CASH. + </p> + <p> + P.S. Have you seen Mr. Bangs dig up any mummies yet? How he can do it and + keep out of jale, my saving soul, I don't know. To say nothing of maybe + catching whatever it was they died of. + </p> + <p> + P.S. Won't you please try and see if you can't have a tintype took when + you ride the camel and send me one? + </p> + <p> + (Extracts from a letter from Mr. Galusha Bangs to Mr. Augustus Cabot.) + </p> + <p> + . . . And so, as you see, Cousin Gussie, we are getting on well with the + work of preparation and shall be ready to leave soon. Our excavating this + season will be but preliminary, of course owing to our late start. I am + enjoying it all immensely and it is wonderfully exhilarating and inspiring + to be back once more in the field. But my greatest inspiration is my wife. + She is a remarkable woman. A most extraordinary woman, I assure you. How + in the world I managed to exist without her companionship and guidance and + amazingly practical help all these years I cannot imagine. And I did not + really exist, of course, I merely blundered along. She is—well, I + really despair of telling you how wonderful she is. And when I think how + much of my present happiness I owe to you, Cousin Gussie, I... + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + But the greatest miracle, the miraculousness—I don't know there is + such a word, but there should be—of which sets me wondering + continually, is that she should have been willing to marry an odd, + inconsequential sort of stick like me. And I find myself saying over and + over: “WHAT have I ever done to deserve it?...” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Cabot was reading the letter from which these extracts were made to a + relative, a Miss Deborah Cabot, known to him and the family as “Third + Cousin Deborah.” At this point in the reading he looked up and laughed. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove!” he exclaimed. “Isn't that characteristic? Isn't that like him? + Well, I told him once that he was magnificent. And he is, not as I meant + it then, but literally.” + </p> + <p> + Third Cousin Deborah sniffed through her thin nostrils. “Well, perhaps,” + she admitted, “but such a performance as this marriage of his is a little + too much. <i>I</i> can't understand him, Augustus. I confess he is quite + beyond ME.” + </p> + <p> + Cabot smiled. “In many things—and possibly the things that count + most, after all, Deborah,” he observed, “I have come to the conclusion + that old Galusha is far beyond the majority of us.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GALUSHA THE MAGNIFICENT ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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