Galusha the Magnificent

by Joseph Crosby Lincoln

  CHAPTER XI

  About the Phipps' home hung now the atmosphere of expectancy. It had sohung for several weeks, ever since the first letter to Cousin Gussie hadbeen posted, but now there was in it a different quality, a qualityof brightness, of cheer. Martha seemed more like herself, the capable,adequate self which Galusha had met when he staggered into that houseout of the rain and wind of his first October night on Cape Cod. She wasmore talkative, laughed more frequently, and bustled about her work withmuch, if not all, of her former energy. She, herself, was quite awareof the change and commented upon it rather apologetically in one of hertalks with her lodger.

  "It's ridiculous," she said, "and I know it, but I can't help it. I'mas excited as a child and almost as sure everything is goin' to come outright as--well, as Primmie is. I wasn't so at all in the beginnin'; whenwe first sent that letter to your cousin I didn't think there was muchmore than one chance in a thousand that he would take any interest inWellmouth Development stock. But since you got back from your Bostoncruise, Mr. Bangs, I've felt altogether different. What the Cabot,Bancroft and Cabot folks said wasn't any too definite; when I sit rightdown 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 someof MY old dresses pretty soon, or summer'll be here and I won't havea thing fit to wear. I declare," she added, with a laugh, "this is thefirst time I've even thought about clothes since last fall. And when awoman forgets to be interested in dressmakin' she's pretty far gone....Why, what makes you look so sorrowful? Is anything wrong?"

  Galusha replied that nothing whatever was wrong; there was, he said, noreason in the world why he should appear sorrowful. Yet, this answerwas not the exact truth; there were reasons, and speeches such as MissMartha's reminded him of them. They awoke his uneasy conscience to thefear that the encouragement she found in his report from Cabot, Bancroftand Cabot was almost entirely due to his interpretation of that reportand not to the facts behind it. However, as she must on no accountguess this to be the case, he smiled and assumed an air more than evercarefree.

  One afternoon, when, on his way home after an unusually lengthy walk, hestopped at the post office, he found that the Phipps' mail had alreadybeen delivered.

  "Zach Bloomer stopped along in and took it," explained Miss TamsonBlack, the postmaster's sister-in-law. "I told him I presumed likelyyou'd be here after it yourself pretty soon, but it didn't make nodifference. He said--but maybe I better not tell you."

  "Oh, yes--no doubt," observed Galusha, who was, as usual, paying littleattention.

  Tamson, plainly disappointed at his lack of curiosity, elevated her thinnose.

  "Well," she observed, "what he SAID was that, fur's things bein' herewas concerned, Christmas would be here, give it time enough. Prettysassy kind of talk, _I_ call it, but maybe you ain't so partic'lar, Mr.Bangs."

  "Dear me! Of course. Well, well!... Oh, were there any lettersfor--ah--for me, may I ask?"

  "Why, yes, there was, two of 'em. That's what made me cal'late youmight like to get 'em first yourself. I knew you didn't get lettersvery often, Mr. Bangs; that is, I've noticed you ain't since I've beenhelpin' in this office. Anyhow, 'most anybody would rather get their ownmail private than have Zach Bloomer cartin' it from land-knows-where tonever-and-gone, smellin' it all up with old tobacco pipes and fish orwhatever else he carries 'round in his pockets. Course I don't mean helugs fish around in his pocket, 'tain't likely--He, he, he--but that oldcoat of his always smells like a--like a porgie boat. And I don't know'sI mean that those letters of yours were any more 'special private thancommon; anyhow, both envelopes was in MALE handwritin'--He, he, he! ButI noticed one was stamped from way out in--in Nevada, seems if 'twas,so--"

  "Eh?" Galusha came to life with astonishing quickness. "From--fromNevada, did you say?"

  "Um-hm. I remember it real plain now. You see, it kind of caught my eyeas I was sortin.' We don't never get much mail from Nevada--not in thisoffice we don't never hardly. So when I see... Well, my good land!"

  The exclamation was caused by the unceremonious suddenness of Mr. Bangs'exit. He was well across the road by the time Miss Black reached thewindow.

  "My good land!" exclaimed Tamson again. Later she told herbrother-in-law that she cal'lated that Nevada letter was maybe moreprivate than she cal'lated first, and that she bet you she was goin' tolook pretty hard at the handwritin' on the NEXT one that come.

  Primmie, apparently, had been watching through the kitchen window forGalusha to appear. At any rate, she opened the door for him. Hermouth opened also, but he, for perhaps the first time in theiracquaintanceship, spoke first.

  "I know--I know, Primmie," he said, hastily; "or if I don't know you cantell me later on. Ah--please don't delay me now."

  Primmie was struggling between surprise and disappointment.

  "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 tellyou, and tell you how sorry he was that it happened, and that he can'texactly figger out just how it did come to happen, neither."

  "Eh?" Galusha paused, with one arm still in the sleeve of his overcoat."Happen? What has happened to--ah--Mr. Bloomer?"

  "Ain't nothin' happened to him. 'Twas him that made it happen to yourletter. And THAT letter of all letters! You see, Zach he don't exactlyremember when 'twas he got it from the post office, but it must havebeen much as a week ago, sartin sure. Anyhow, when he took out thelighthouse 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-itand Cabot' name printed out right on the envelope and it come over methat 'twas THAT letter he'd forgot and had been totin' 'round with him,'WELL,' says I. 'My Lord of Isrul!' I says--"

  "Primmie! Primmie, stop! Stop--please! And tell me: Where are thoseletters?"

  "Hey? I was goin' to tell you. _I_ put 'em right here on the dinin' roomtable, but Miss Martha she carted 'em off upstairs to your bedroom. Saidshe presumed likely you'd want to open 'em by yourself. _I_ don't seewhy--"

  "Hush! Hush! Where is--ah--Miss Phipps?"

  "She's in the settin' room. Told me not to disturb her, she wanted to bealone. I--"

  Galusha hastened away, leaving the excited Miss Cash still talking. Fromthe foot of the stairs he caught a glimpse of Martha in the chair by thefront 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 forthat when he had read what was in those letters.

  There they were, three of them, upon his bureau. He picked up the oneon top. It bore upon the envelope the words "National Institute,Washington, D. C.," and was, he knew, merely a monthly report. Usuallysuch reports were of great interest to him; this one was not. He hadreally important matters to claim his attention.

  The second letter was, obviously, that which the forgetful Zacheus hadcarried about with him for a week. In the corner was the Cabot, Bancroftand Cabot name. He tore it open. An oblong slip of paper fell to thefloor. He did not even stoop to pick this up, for there was a letter,too. It began:

  "Prof. Galusha Bangs, East Wellmouth, Mass.

  "DEAR SIR:

  "Pursuant to your instructions in our conversation of recent date I amenclosing check representing your share of the new Tinplate re-issue,sale of rights, transfer of old stock, bonus, etc. The transfer hasbeen, as I told you I felt sure it would be, very advantageous andprofitable to stockholders like yourself. The amount due you, as shownin statement attached, is--"

  Galusha read no further. What did he care for Tinplate, profits,business, or anything like that! There was not a word in the letterconcerning Wellmouth Development. It was a bitter disappointment.

  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. Y
es,the letter was from George L. Thomas, and George L. Thomas was CousinGussie's private secretary. At last!

  The letter shook in Galusha's fingers as he began to read. Mr. Thomaswas 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 toknow that Mr. Cabot's condition was, so his physician seemed to think,steadily improving. The improvement was slow, of course, which was tobe expected, but... a long paragraph here which Galusha skipped. He washighly pleased to know that Cousin Gussie was better, but at presentthat was sufficient; he could not waste time in reading details of theconvalescence. WHY didn't the man get down to business?

  Ah, here it was! Mr. Thomas wrote:

  "In your letter to Mr. Cabot I note your inquiry concerning the stockof the Wellmouth Development Company, its desirability as an investment,the likelihood of present sale, and so on. I know nothing of the matterpersonally, and am not in a position to ascertain at the present time.Speaking in a general way, however, and with my only knowledge of thefacts in the case that supplied by your letter, I should suggest thatyour friend keep his stock and await developments. I am quite sure thata forced sale--if such a sale could now be made at any price, which Idoubt--would involve the sacrifice of almost the entire amount invested.I should suggest holding on and waiting."

  Galusha passed his shaking hand across his perspiring forehead.

  "Oh, dear me!" he said aloud.

  "This would be my advice," went on the letter, "but if you wish a morepositive 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. Ofcourse, as you will understand, it is quite impossible to mention yourinquiry to Mr. Cabot. He is here to regain his health, which is stillvery far from normal, his doctor is with him, and the one word which ispositively forbidden is 'Business.' Mr. Cabot is supposed to forget thatthere 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 mostencouraging...."

  A paragraph or two more of this sort of thing and then Mr. Thomas'signature. Galusha stared at the letter dully. This--this was whathe and Martha Phipps had awaited so long! This was the outcome of hisbrilliant idea which was to save the Phipps' home... and its owner'speace of mind... and Primmie... and ....

  Oh, dear me! dear me!

  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 comfortwhatever. Rather, it served to bring home to him the hard realitiesof the whole wretched affair. Cousin Gussie's interest was what he hadbanked on, and that interest was absolutely unapproachable. To writeMinor at the Boston office was a possibility, of course, but, in hispresent frame of mind Galusha felt no hope that such a proceeding wouldhelp. 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 mustbe very close to her limit of waiting. How could he summon the courageto descend to the sitting room and tell her that she must prepare foranother period of waiting, with almost certain disappointment at theend?

  A temperament like Galusha Bangs' is capable of soaring to the heightsand 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 thatsubcellar, not a ray of light anywhere. Galusha realized now, or thoughthe did, that all his great scheme for helping Martha to dispose of herDevelopment shares had been based upon nothing substantial, nothing butrainbow-tinted hopes which, in turn, were based upon nothing but wishes.Omitting the hopes and wishes, what was there left? Just what thepresident of the Trumet Trust Company had told Martha and what RaishPulcifer, when angered into truthtelling, had told him. That is, thatthe shares of the Wellmouth Development Company might be worth somethingsome day, but that now they were worth nothing, because no one would buythem.

  Yes... yes, that was the truth.... But how could he go down to thesitting room and tell Martha Phipps that truth, having already told herso much that was quite different?

  If she would only let him lend her the five thousand dollars, orwhatever it was. He did not know how much Cousin Gussie was taking careof for him at present, but there had been a large sum at the timeof Aunt Clarissa's death. He remembered that the figures had quitefrightened him then. He had not thought much about them since, becausethey did not interest him. He always had enough for his needs and morethan enough, and dividends, and interests, and investments and all suchthings bored him and made him nervous. But, now that he WAS interestedin an investment--Martha Phipps' investment--it brought home to him theundisputable fact that he, Galusha Bangs, had plenty of money to lend,if he wished to lend it.

  And if Cousin Gussie, or Cousin Gussie's representatives, would let himhave it for such a purpose! Cousin Gussie always made such an unpleasantdisturbance when he expressed a desire for any of his money, asked somany embarrassing questions as to what was to be done with it, and thelike. If he should go now and ask for five thousand dollars to lendMartha Phipps, what...

  But Martha Phipps would not accept a loan, anyway. She had told him thatvery thing, and he knew her well enough by this time to know she meantwhat she said.

  Yet there remained the imminent and dreadful question: How, how, HOWcould he go down to where she was sitting waiting and tell her that herhopes, hopes which he had raised, were based solely upon the vaporingsof an optimistic donkey?

  In his wrathful disgust with that donkey he shifted angrily in his chairand his foot struck a bit of paper upon the floor. It rustled and therustle attracted his attention. Absently he stepped and picked up thepaper. It was the slip which had fallen from the Cabot, Bancroft andCabot letter and was a check drawn to his order for fourteen thousand,three hundred and ten dollars and thirty-eight cents, his share of theTinplate "melon."

  Fifteen more minutes passed before Mr. Bangs came down to the sittingroom, but when he did he came in a great hurry. He dashed into theapartment and announced his intention of starting for Boston at once.

  "And--and if you will be so kind as to let me have those--ah--shares ofyours, Miss Martha," he said.

  Martha looked at him. She had been rather pale when he entered, but nowthe color rushed to her face.

  "Shares?" she repeated. "Do you mean--"

  "Those--ah--Development shares of yours--yes. If you will be good enoughto let me take them with me--"

  "Take them with you?... Oh, Mr. Bangs, you don't mean you have heardfrom your cousin and that he is goin' to--"

  "Yes--ah--yes," broke in Galusha, hastily. "I have heard. I am to--thatis, I must take the shares with me and go to Boston at once. If you willbe willing to entrust them to me, Miss Martha."

  "I'll get 'em this minute." She started toward the stairs, but pausedand turned.

  "Is it really settled, Mr. Bangs?" she asked, as if scarcely daring tobelieve in the possibility. "Are they really goin' to buy that Wellmouthstock of mine?"

  "Why--why--" Galusha was yawing badly, but he clutched the helm and kepton the course; "I--ah--hope so, Miss Martha, I hope so."

  "And pay me--pay me MONEY for it?"

  "I presume so. I hope so. If you will--"

  "I declare, it doesn't seem possible! Who, for mercy sakes, is goin' tobuy it? Mr. Cabot, himself?"

  He had been expecting this and was prepared for it. He had rehearsedhis answer many times before coming downstairs. He held up a protestinghand.

  "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 stockand so--and so--"

  "And so you don't know. Well, it doesn't make a bit of difference,really. The Lord knows I shou
ldn't care so long as I sell it honestlyand don't cheat anybody. And a big house like Cabot, Bancroft and Cabotought to know what they're doin' when they buy, or let any of theircustomers buy. I'll get the certificate this very minute, Mr. Bangs."

  She hastened up the stairs. Galusha wiped his forehead and breathedheavily. There was a knock on the door leading to the dining room; itopened and Primmie's head appeared.

  "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?"

  "Go away, Primmie! Go AWAY!"

  "I'm a-goin'. But was there?"

  "Yes--ah--no--I--I guess so."

  "Lord everlastin' of Isrul! My savin' soul!"

  Martha's footsteps on the stairs caused the head to disappear and thedoor to close. Miss Phipps appeared, her hand clasping a highly ornatedocument.

  "Here's the certificate," she said, breathlessly. "I'm so upset andexcited 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 Isold two shares of railroad stock he left me I had to sign on the backthere. I HOPE I've done it in the right place."

  Galusha declared the signature to be quite right, yes. As a matter offact, he could not have told for certain that there was a signaturethere. He crammed the certificate into his pocket.

  "Oh, my sakes!" protested Martha, "you aren't goin' to just put it looseinto that pocket, are you? Don't you think it ought to go in your--yourwallet, or somewhere?"

  "Eh? Why--why, I presume it had.... Dear me, yes.... It would be a--ajoke if I lost it, wouldn't it?"

  "A JOKE! Well, it wouldn't be my notion of a joke, exactly."

  "Oh, dear, dear! Did I say 'joke'? I didn't mean that it would actuallybe--ah--humorous, of course. I meant... I meant.... Really, I don'tthink I know what I meant."

  "I don't believe you do. Mr. Bangs, I truly think you are more excitedabout all this than I am, and all on my account. What can I ever say--ordo--to--"

  "Please, please, Miss Martha! Dear me, dear me, DON'T speak in thatway. It's so--ah--nonsensical, you know. Now if--if I may have my coatand--ah--cap--"

  "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 ofit until this minute--the train doesn't go for 'most two hours."

  She burst out laughing and, because she was overwrought and a triflehysterical, she laughed a good deal. Galusha laughed even longer thanshe did, not because he was hysterical, but because laughing was verymuch easier and safer than answering embarrassing questions.

  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 rankand dignity, was standing on the stone step by the outside door, shesaid:

  "Now do be careful, Mr. Bangs."

  "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 theoffice. I shall think of nothing else."

  "Mercy me, think of SOMETHIN' else, please! Think of yourself whenyou're goin' across those Boston streets or you'll be run over. Ideclare, I don't know as I ought to let you go."

  "Oh, I shall be quite safe, quite. But, really," he added, with apuzzled smile, "I can't tell you how odd this seems. When I was a boy myAunt Clarissa, I remember, used to caution me about--about crossing thestreets, and so on. It makes me feel quite young again to have you doit, Miss Martha. I assure you it does."

  Martha regarded him gravely.

  "Hasn't anybody since ever told you to be careful?" she asked; "anybodysince your aunt died, I mean?"

  "Why, no, I think not. I presume," he added, with the air of onesuggesting a happy explanation, "I presume no one has--ah--beensufficiently interested. It would have been peculiar if they had been,of course."

  "Hum!... Well, I hope you won't think I am impudent for remindin' you tolook out."

  "Oh, no, indeed. It is very nice of you to take the trouble. I like it,really I do."

  The office of Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot was closed when his trainreached 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 theinterval he had time for more reflection and, as a result, he determinednot to go to Mr. Barbour with his business. The fear that knowledge ofwhat he was about to do would reach Cousin Gussie's ears was strong uponhim. Doubtless it was a fact that he had a right to do what he pleasedwith his own money, but it was also a fact that Cousin Gussie seemedto think he had no such right. Barbour was the Cabot secretary, orassistant secretary, so decidedly it was best not to go to Barbour.

  It was Minor whom he saw as he entered the banking house and to Minor hedivulged his business. Taking from his pocketbook the Tinplate check, heasked if he might have it--ah--broken up, so to speak.

  "You see," he explained, "I want to get--ah--five thousand dollars."

  Minor appeared rather puzzled at first, and Mr. Bangs' tangled andnervous explanations did not seem to enlighten him greatly. At last,however, he caught the idea.

  "I see," he said. "You don't want to deposit and draw against it; youwant two checks instead of one. One check for five thousand and theother for the balance."

  "Yes, yes, yes," assented Galusha, much relieved. "That is it, exactly.I am very much obliged to you--indeed I am--yes."

  Minor took him to one of the windows and introduced him to the clerk atthe desk behind it.

  "Give Mr. Bangs whatever he wants," he said.

  Galusha explained. The clerk asked how he would have thefive-thousand-dollar check made out.

  "In your own name?" he asked.

  Mr. Bangs reflected. "Why--ah--" he stammered, "I should prefer itin--ah--some other name, if possible. I should prefer that my name wasnot connected with it, if you don't mind."

  "In the name of the person you intend paying it to?" inquired the clerk.

  Galusha reflected again. If Martha Phipps' name were written on thatcheck it would be possible that, some day or other, Cousin Gussiemight see it. And if he saw it, questions would be asked, embarrassingquestions.

  "No-o," he said, hesitatingly; "no, I think I should not care to haveher--that is, to have that person's name appear, either. Isn'tthere some way by which the sum could be paid without any one's nameappearing? A check to--to--oh, dear me! why CAN'T I think of it?"

  "To bearer, you mean?"

  "That's it, that's it. A check to bearer would be very satisfactory,very satisfactory, indeed. Thank you very much."

  The clerk, who was a painstaking young man, destined to rise in hisprofession, inspected the odd individual outside the railing.

  "A check to bearer is almost the same as cash," he said. "If you shouldlose it, it would be negotiable--practically the money itself, or prettynear it."

  Galusha started. He looked radiantly happy.

  "That's it!" he exclaimed. "That's it, of course. Thank you forthe suggestion. The money will be the very thing. It will be such adelightful surprise. And there will be no one's name upon it at all. Iwill take the money, of course."

  It took some time to convince the astonished clerk that Mr. Bangsactually wished five thousand dollars in currency, but he finally wasconvinced.

  "How will you have it?" he asked. "Small bills or large?"

  Galusha apparently did not care. Any denominations would be quitesatisfactory, he affirmed. So, when the transaction was finished, and heleft the Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot office, it was with a new check fornine thousand, three hundred and ten dollars and thirty-eight cents inhis pocketbook and in his trousers' pocket a roll of bills as thick ashis wrist. By way of modification to this statement, it may be well toexplain that Galusha Bangs' wrists, considered AS wrists, were by nomeans thick.

  The clerk stared after him as he departed and a fellow clerk paused toask questions.

  "Who was the old guy?" he inquired.

 
"Name's Bangs."

  "What is he?"

  "A nut," was the reply, given with the assurance of absolute conviction.

  The "nut" traveled back to East Wellmouth upon the afternoon trainand, back once more in the Phipps' sitting room, "shelled out" upon thecenter table. Martha stared at the heap of bills and caught her breathwith a gasp.

  Galusha deposited the last bank note upon the table. "There!" heexclaimed, with satisfaction; "that is all, I believe. And I haveactually gotten it here--all of it. I am quite sure I haven't lost a--apenny. Dear me, that is a very remarkable thing to do--for me to do, Imean."

  Miss Phipps did not answer and, turning, he saw that she was sitting inthe rocking-chair, her hand to her forehead. Her face was white.

  "Dear me!" he exclaimed, in alarm. "Miss Martha, are you ill?"

  Still she did not answer and, very much frightened, he hastened to thedoor, opened it, and shouted for Primmie. The summons for her handmaidenacted as a complete restorative. Martha came to life at once.

  "WHAT in the world are you callin' Primmie for?" she demanded. "I don'twant her. I wouldn't have her see all that.... Oh, good heavens andearth!"

  Primmie was already in the room. She, as Mr. Bangs would have describedit, bounced in.

  "Yes'm--I mean yes, sir," was her salutation. "Here I be.... Oh, mysavin' soul of Isrul!"

  She had seen the mound of money upon the table. Two minutes later Marthaand her lodger were again alone in the sitting room. Primmie had been,gently but firmly, escorted to outer darkness and the door closed behindher. She was still asking questions and calling for her ransomed spiritand the ruler of Israel; they could hear her do so even through thedoor. The exclamations died away in the direction of the kitchen. MissPhipps, who had done escort duty, turned toward Galusha and ruefullyshook her head.

  "I GUESS there isn't anybody I'd rather should not have been here justnow than Primmie Cash," she observed. "If there is I can't think oftheir names. Mr. Bangs, I know you meant well, because you couldn't meanany other way, but would you mind tellin' me WHY you called for her?"

  Galusha blinked in bewildered fashion behind his spectacles.

  "Why--why," he stammered, "you--you see--why, I spoke to you severaltimes and you did not answer--and you were so pale, I thought--Ithought--"

  "You thought I was sick and so you sung out for Primmie. Humph! that's agood 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? Doyou wonder? Mr. Bangs," she moved to the table and laid a hand, whichtrembled a good deal, upon the pile of bills, "is this money reallymine?"

  "Yes--oh, yes, indeed. It is yours, of course."

  "All of it? It doesn't seem possible. How much is there here?"

  He told her. She lifted the topmost bills from the heap and reverentlylaid them down again.

  "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 MarthaPhipps. 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 firstplace."

  "Yes--ah--yes, of course. Yes, indeed. Are you sure you feel quite wellagain, Miss Martha?"

  "I'm sure. But what did they say when they bought it, Mr. Bangs?"

  "Say? Ah, say?... Why, they said--ah--um--they said there was the moneyand--and I counted it, you know, and--"

  "Yes, yes. But didn't they say anything about the stock; about why theybought it, and like that?"

  "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 hadbetter."

  "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? Justbought it?"

  "Yes--ah--yes, that's it. They--ah--bought it, you know."

  "It seems strange. What did your cousin say?"

  "Ah--my cousin? Cousin Gussie, you mean. Yes, yes, of course. Oh, hesaid--ah--all sorts of things."

  "Did he? About the stock?"

  "Oh, no, not about the stock so much. No, not so much about that,about... a sort of general conversation it was, about--about theweather, and--and the like."

  "The weather? Did he write about the weather in his letter?"

  He had for the moment forgotten that his relative was an invalid in theFar West and that Miss Phipps knew it. He turned red, coughed, stammeredand then broke out in a series of fragmentary and involved explanationsto the effect that Cousin Gussie was--ah--naturally much interested inthe weather because of his state of health and--and--She paid littleheed, for in the midst of his explaining she interrupted.

  "Oh, never mind, never mind," she said. "It doesn't make one bit ofdifference 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 shallbe for a little while, so you'll have to be patient with me. All I canthink of is that now I can live here in this house, for a while longeranyhow, 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' howI can do this and do without that--and--and--"

  She stopped, her sentence unfinished. Galusha said nothing. A momentlater she turned to him.

  "Should I write your cousin a letter and thank him, do you think?" sheasked.

  Galusha's reply was hurriedly given and most emphatic. "Oh, no, no," heprotested. "It will be quite unnecessary, quite. Indeed, no. He--ah--hewould not expect it."

  "No, I presume likely he wouldn't. And, after all, it was just a matterof 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 anymore or--or... Oh, you understand what I want to say, don't you?"

  "Now--now, Miss Martha, please. I have done nothing, really, nothing butwhat any friend would have done."

  "Any friend like you, you mean. I don't know where there are any moresuch friends, Mr. Bangs."

  "Now, PLEASE. Miss Martha, I--I HOPE you won't mention this again. Itwill oblige me greatly if you will not. Really, I--I mean it."

  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, andI never shall stop thinkin'.... There! And now what shall I do with allthis money? Of course, I'll put it in the bank to-morrow, but what willI do with it to-night? By the way," she added, "it seems queer theyshould have paid you in cash instead of a check. Why did they, Iwonder?"

  Here was a demand for more explaining. Galusha plunged headlong,foundered, and then emerged, like a dog, with an explanation, such as itwas, between his teeth.

  "They--ah--they thought the money would be safer," he said.

  Martha laughed aloud. "Safer?" she repeated. "Why, that's funny. Perhapsthey're right, but I know the only way I shall feel safe between nowand 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 theresponsibility of havin' riches. Ah hum! I laugh, Mr. Bangs, but youmustn't think it's because I don't realize what you--I mean... well, Iguess I laugh because I'm kind of hysterical and--happy. I haven't beenso happy for a long, long time. I won't say it again because you don'twant me to, but for this once more, thank you, Mr. Bangs."

  As Galusha left her to go to his room, she said: "Now I must go out andget after Primmie again. I'm scared to death that she'll tell everybodyfrom here to Provincetown about my bein' worth a million dollars. Shewon't make it any LESS than a million, and the chances are it will beconsider'ble more."

  "But, Miss Martha, you have already told her not to tell about themoney. I heard you tell her just now when you sent her out of the room."

  Martha shrugged her shoulders.

  "When you pour water into a sieve," she said, "it doesn't do much g
oodto tell the sieve not to leak. Father used to say that some folks' headswere built so that whatever was poured into their ears ran right out oftheir mouths. Primmie's is made that way, I'm afraid. She'll swear shewon't tell, and she won't mean to tell, but... Well, good-night, Mr.Bangs."