CHAPTER V--A TRAP AND WHAT THE "RAT" CAUGHT IN IT
Foster run a shebang that was labeled "The Palace Billiard, Pool andSipio Parlors. Cigars and Tobacco. Tonics, all Flavors. Ice Cream inSeason." The "Palace" part was some exaggeration and so was the"Parlors," but the place was the favorite hang-out of all the loafersand young sports in town and the church folks was tumble down on it,callin' it a "gilded hell" and such pious profanity. The gilt had woreoff years afore and if the hot place ain't more interestin' than thatbilliard saloon it must be dull for some of the permanent boarders.
We found Philander asleep back of the soft drink counter and youngErastus Taylor--"Ratty," everybody called him--practicin' pin pool, asusual, at one of the tables. "Ratty" was Ebenezer Taylor's only son andthe combination trial and idol of the old man's soul. Ebenezer thoughtmost as much of him as he did of his money, and when you've said thatyou couldn't make it any stronger. He'd done a heap to make a man of"Rat"--his idea of a man--even separatin' from enough cash to send himto a business college up to Middleboro; but all the boy got from thatcollege was a thunder and lightnin' taste in clothes and a post-graduatecourse in pool playin'. Pool playin' was the only thing he cared aboutand he could spot any one of the Ostable sharps four balls and beat 'emhands down. He'd sampled two or three jobs up to Boston, but they alwaysundermined his health and he drifted back home to live on dad and lookfor another "openin'." I cal'late the pair lived a cat and dog life, forRatty always wanted money to spend and Ebenezer wanted it to keep. Theold man was the wust down on the billiard room of anybody and his sonput in most of his time there.
Me and Jim Henry woke up Philander and told him we wanted to talk withhim private. He said go ahead and talk; there wa'n't anybody to hear butRatty, and Rat was just like one of the family. So, as we couldn't do itany different, we went ahead. Jacobs explained that we felt that maybewe might some time or other need a little extry room for our businessand, bein' as he--Philander--was handy by and we was always prejudicedin favor of a neighbor and so on, perhaps he'd consider sellin' us hisbuildin' and lot. Course it didn't make so much difference to him; hecould easy move his "Parlors" somewheres else--and similar sweet ile.Philander listened till Jim Henry had poured on the last soothin' drop,and then he laughed.
"Um ... ya-as," he says. "I could move a heap, _I_ could! I'm so durnedpopular amongst the good landholders in this town that any one of 'emwould turn their best settin'-rooms over to me the minute I mentionedit. Yes, indeed! Just where 'bouts would I move?--if 'tain't too much toask."
Well, that was some of a sticker, 'cause _I_ couldn't think of anybodythat would have that billiard room within a thousand fathoms of theirpremises, if they could help it. But Jim Henry he pretended not to beshook up a cent's wuth. That was easy; 'twas just a matter ofPhilander's pickin' out the right place, that was all there was to it.
Philander heard him through and then he laughed again.
"You're wastin' good business breath," he says. "I wouldn't sell if Icould, unless I had a fust-class place to move into, and there ain't nosuch place on the main road and you know it. I'm doin' trade enough tokeep me alive and I'm satisfied, though I can't lay up a cent. But, sofur as movin' out is concerned, I expect to do that on the fust of nextNovember. I'll be fired out, I judge, and prob'ly'll have to leave town.Hey, Rat?"
Ratty Taylor, who'd been listenin', twisted his mouth and grunted.
"Yes," he says, "I guess that's right, worse luck!"
"You bet it's right!" says Philander. "As I said, Mr. Jacobs, if I couldsell out to you and Cap'n Zeb I wouldn't, without a good handy place tomove into. And I can't sell any way. There's a thousand dollar mortgageon this shop and lot; it's due June fust; and, unless I pay itoff--which I can't, havin' not more'n five hundred to my name--themortgage'll be foreclosed and out I go."
This was news all right. Then me and Jim Henry asked the same question,both speakin' together.
"Who owns the mortgage?" we asked.
Foster looked at Ratty and grinned. Rat grinned back, sort of sickly.
"Shall I tell 'em?" says Philander.
"I don't care," says Ratty. "Tell 'em, if you want to."
"Well," says Foster, "old Ebenezer Taylor, Ratty's dad, owns it, drathim! and he's tryin' to drive me out of town 'count of Rat's spendin' somuch time in here. Ratty's a fine feller, but his pa's the meanest oldskinflint that ever drawed the breath of life. Not meanin' noreflections on your family, Rat--but ain't it so?"
"_I_ shan't contradict you, Phi," says Ratty.
Jacobs and I looked at each other. Then I got up from my chair.
"Jim Henry," says I, "I don't see as we've got much to gain by stayin'here. Let's go home."
We went back to the store, neither of us speakin', but both thinkin'hard. It was all off now, of course. If old Taylor owned that mortgage,he'd foreclose on the nail, if only to get rid of his son's loafin'place. And he wouldn't sell to us--hatin' us as he did--unless wecovered the place with cash an inch deep. No, buyin' the "Palace" was adead proposition. And there wa'n't another available buildin' or lot bigenough for us to move to within a mile of Ostable Center.
"Humph!" says I, some sarcastic. "It looks to me--speakin' as a man inthe crosstrees--as if that wonderful business brain of yours had sprunga leak somewheres, Jim. Better get your pumps to workin', hadn't you?"
He snorted. "I'd rather have a leaky head than a solid wood one likesome I know," he says. "Quiet your Jezebellerin' and let me think....There's one thing we might do, of course: We might advance the otherfive hundred to Foster, let him pay off his mortagage, and then--"
"And then trust to luck to get the money back," I put in. "There's morecharity than profit in that, if you ask me. Once that mortgage is paid,you couldn't get Philander out of that buildin' with a derrick. He don'twant to go."
"But we might make some sort of a deal to pay him a hundred dollars orso to boot and then--"
"And then you'd have another hundred to collect, that's all. I wouldn'ttrust that billiard and sipio man as fur as old Ebenezer could seethrough his nigh-to specs. No sir-ee! Nothin' doin', as the boys say."
Next forenoon I met old Ebenezer Taylor on the sidewalk in front of theMethodist meetin'-house and, when he saw me, he stopped and commencedchucklin' and gigglin' as if he was wound up.
"He, he, he!" says he. "He, he! I hear you and that partner of yours,Zebulon, want to buy my property next door to you. Well, I'll sell it toyou--at a price. He, he, he! at a price."
_'Well, I'll sell it to you--at a price.'_]
"So your hopeful and promisin' son's been tellin' tales, has he?" saysI. "I wa'n't aware that it was your property--yet."
He stopped gigglin' and glared at me, sour and bitter as a greencrab-apple.
"It's goin' to be," he says. "Don't you forget that, it's goin' to be.And if you want it, you'll pay my price. You owe me for them clothes youruined, Zeb Snow--for them and for other things. And I cal'late I've gotyou fellers about where I want you."
"Oh, I don't know," says I. "You may be glad enough to sell to us lateron. What good is an empty buildin' on your hands? Unless of course youintend rentin' it for another billiard saloon."
That made him so mad he fairly gurgled.
"There'll be no billiard saloon in this town," he declared. "No moregilded ha'nts of sin, temptin' young men whose parents have spent goodmoney on their education. No, you bet there won't! And that buildin' maynot be empty, nuther. I know somethin'. He, he, he!"
"Sho!" says I. "Do you? I wouldn't have believed it of you, Ebenezer."
I left him tryin' to think of a fittin' answer, and walked on to thestore. Mary called to me from behind the letter-boxes.
"Mr. Jacobs is in the back room," she says, "and he wants to see youright away. Erastus Taylor is with him."
"'Rastus Taylor?" I sung out. "Ratty? What in the world--?"
I hurried into the back room. Sure enough, there was Jim Henry and Rattycaged behind a pile of boxes and barrels.
"Ah
, Skipper!" says Jacobs; "is that you? I was hopin' you'd come. YoungTaylor here has been suggestin' an idea that looks good to me. Tell theCap'n what you've been tellin' me, Ratty."
Rat twisted uneasy on the box where he was settin' and give me a sidelook out of his little eyes. I never saw him look more like hisnickname.
"Well, Cap'n Zeb," he says, "it's like this: I've been thinkin' and Ibelieve I've thought of a way so you and Mr. Jacobs can get Philander'slot and buildin'."
"You have, hey?" says I. "That's interestin', if true. What's the way?"
"Why," says he, twistin' some more, "that mortgage is due on the firstof June. If it ain't paid, Philander'll be foreclosed and he'll move outof town. It's only a thousand dollars and Phi's got half of it. Ifsomebody--you and Mr. Jacobs, say--was to lend him t'other half, whythen he could pay it off and--and--"
"And stay where he is," I finished disgusted. "That would be real lovelyfor Philander, but I don't see where we come in. This ain't a billiardand loan society Mr. Jacobs and I are runnin', thankin' you and Fosterfor the suggestion."
"Wait a minute, Skipper," says Jim Henry. "Your engine is runnin' wild.That ain't Ratty's scheme at all. Go on, Rat; spring it on him."
"Philander wouldn't be so set on stayin' where he is, Cap'n Zeb," saysRat, quick as a flash, "if he had another place to move into; anotherplace here on the main road, convenient and handy by. And I think I knowa place that could be got for him."
I didn't answer for a minute. I was runnin' over in my mind everypossible place that might be sold or let to Philander Foster for a"Palace." And to save my life I couldn't think of one.
"Well," says I, at last, "where is it?"
Ratty leaned forward. "What's the matter with Aunt Hannah Watson'sbuildin' up the street?" he says. "She's been crazy to sell it for along spell. And the lower floor would make a pretty fair billiard room,wouldn't it?"
I was disgusted. I knew the buildin' he meant, of course. Jacobs and Ihad talked it over that very mornin' as a possible place to move the"Ostable Grocery, Dry Goods, Boots and Shoes and Fancy Goods Store" to,but we'd both decided it wa'n't nigh big enough.
"Humph!" says I, "that scheme's so brilliant you need smoked glass tolook at it. Do you cal'late as good a church woman as Aunt Hannah Watsonwould sell or let her place for a billiard room? She needs the money badenough, land knows; but she's as down on those ha'nts of sin as your dadis, Rat Taylor. She'd never sell to Phi Foster in this world."
"_She_ mightn't, I give in," answered Rat. "But her nephew up to Warehamis a diff'rent breed of cats. And since she moved over there to livealong with him, he's got the handlin' of her property. I found that outto-day. From what I hear of this nephew man he ain't as particular ashis aunt. And, anyway, 'tain't necessary for Philander to make the deal.You and Mr. Jacobs might make it for him."
I thought this over for a minute. I begun to catch the idea that theyoung scamp had in his noddle--or I thought I did.
"H'm," I says. "Yes, yes. You mean that if we'd lend Philander enough topay the balance of his mortgage on the buildin' he's in now and wouldfix it so's Aunt Hannah'd sell us her place, under the notion that _we_was goin' to use it--you mean that then, after June fust, Foster'd swap.He'd move in there and turn over the old 'Palace' to us."
He and Jim Henry both bobbed their heads emphatic.
"That's what he means," says Jim.
"That's the idea exactly, Cap'n," says Rat. "I think Philander might bewillin' to do that."
"Is that so!" says I, sarcastic. "Well, well! I want to know! But, say,Ratty, ain't you takin' an awful lot of trouble on Foster's account?You're turrible unselfish and disinterested all to once; or else there'sa nigger in the woodpile somewheres. Where do you come in on this?"
He looked pretty average cheap. He fussed and fumed for a minute andthen he blurts out his reason. "Well, I'll tell you, Cap'n," he says."Philander's about the best friend I've got in this bum town and I getmore solid comfort in his saloon than anywheres else. If he's drove outof Ostable, I'll be lonesomer than the grave. I don't want him to go.And besides--well, you see, the old man--dad, I mean--has got a notionabout settin' me up in business here. And I don't want to be set up--notin his kind of business. I know the kind of business I want to go into,and ... but never mind that part," he adds, in a hurry.
I smiled. I remembered what old Ebenezer had said about the "Palace"buildin' not bein' empty on his hands very long and about somethin' heknew. It was all plain enough now. He intended openin' some sort of astore there with his son as boss. I almost wished he would. 'Twould beas good as a three-ring circus, that store would, if I knew Ratty. But Iwas mad, just the same, and when Jim Henry spoke, I was ready for him.
"Well, Skipper," says Jacobs, "what do you think of the plan?"
"Think it's a good one, if you're willin' to heave morals and commonhonesty overboard--otherwise no. To put up a trick like that on an oldwidow woman like Aunt Hannah Watson--to land a billiard room on herproperty, when she'd rather die than have it there, is too close torobbin' the Old Ladies' Home to suit me. I wouldn't touch it with aten-foot pole. So good day to you, Rat Taylor," says I, and walked out.
But Jim Henry Jacobs didn't walk out. No, sir! him and that young Taylorscamp stayed in that back room for another half hour and left itwhisperin' in each other's ears and actin' thicker than thieves. Iwondered what was up, but I was too put-out and mad to ask.
"I'll look it over right after dinner to-morrer," says Jacobs, as theyshook hands at the front door.
"Sure you will, now?" asks Ratty, anxious. "Don't put it off, 'cause itmay be too late."
"At one o'clock to-morrer I'll be there," says Jim Henry, and Rat wentaway lookin' pretty average happy.
Jacobs scarcely spoke to me all the rest of that day nor the nextmornin'. As we got up from the boardin' house table the follerin' noonhe says, without lookin' me in the face, "I ain't goin' back to thestore now. I've got an errand somewheres else."
"Yes," says I, "I imagined you had. You're goin' down to look at thatbuildin' of poor old Aunt Hannah's. That's where you're goin'. Ain't youashamed of yourself, Jim Jacobs?"
"Oh, cut it out!" he snaps, savage. "You make me tired, Skipper. You andyour backwoods scruples give me a pain. I've lived where people aren'tso narrow and bigoted and I don't consider a billiard room an annex tothe hot place. If, by a business deal, I can get that buildin' next doorto add to our establishment, I'm goin' to do it, if I have to use my ownmoney and not a cent of yours. Yes, I _am_ goin' to look at that Watsonproperty. Now, what have you got to say about it?"
"Why, just this," says I; "I cal'late I'll go with you."
"You will?" he sings out. "_You?_"
"Yes," says I, "me. Not that I feel any different about skinnin' AuntHannah than I ever did, but because there's a bare chance that her placemay be big enough for us to move the store and post-office to, afterall. With that idea and no other, I'll go with you, Jim."
So we went together, though we never spoke more than two words on theway down. We got the key at the jewelry and hardware shop next door andwent in. The Watson place was an old-fashioned tumble-down buildin' witha big open lower floor and two or three rooms overhead. I saw right off'twouldn't do for us to move into, but likewise I saw that the lowerfloor _might_ do for Foster, though 'twa'n't as good as where he was, byconsider'ble.
Jim Henry looked the place over.
"No good for us," he snapped.
"None at all," says I.
"Humph!" says he, and we locked up and came down the steps together. Aswe did so I noticed someone watchin' us from acrost the road.
"There's our friend, Jim Henry," says I. "And, judgin' by the way he'sstarin', he's got on his fur-off glasses and knows who we are."
He looked across. "Old Taylor, by thunder!" says he. "Well, if my dealgoes through we'll jolt the old tight-wad yet."
"Do you mean you're goin' on with that low-down billiard-room game?" Iasked.
"Of course I do," he snapped.
> "Then you'll do it on your own hook. _I_ won't be part or parcel of it."
"Who asked you to?" he wanted to know. And we didn't speak again for therest of that day. It made me feel bad, because he and I had been mightyfriendly, as well as partners together. The only comfort I got out of itwas that, judgin' by the way he kept from lookin' at me or speakin', hedidn't feel any too good himself.
But that evenin' Ratty drifted in and the pair of 'em had anotherconfab. And next day, after the mail had gone, Jacobs got me alone andsays he:
"Well," he says, "I think I ought to tell you that I've written thatnephew in Wareham and made an offer on the Watson property. I did it onmy own responsibility and I'll pay the freight. But I thought perhaps Iought to tell you."
"What did you offer?" I asked. He told me.
"I'll take half," says I, "because I consider it a good investment atthat figger. But only with the agreement that the billiard saloonsha'n't go there."
"Then you can keep your money," he says, short. And there was anotherlong spell of not speakin' between the two of us.
Mary noticed that there was somethin' wrong, and it worried her. Shespoke to me about it.
"Cap'n Zeb," she says, "what's the trouble between you and Mr. Jacobs?Of course it isn't my business, and you mustn't tell me unless you wishto."
I thought it over. "Well," says I, "I can't tell you just now, Mary.It's a business matter we don't agree on and it's kind of private. I'lltell you some day, but just now I can't. It ain't all my secret, yousee."
"I see," says she. "I shouldn't have asked. I beg your pardon. I wasn'tcurious, but I do hate to see any trouble between you two. I like youboth."
I nodded. I was feelin' pretty blue. "Jim's a mighty good chap atheart," I says. "I owe him a lot and he's consider'ble more than just apartner to me."
"He thinks the world of you, too," says she. "He's told me so a greatmany times. That is why I can't bear to see you disagree."
I couldn't bear it none too well, either, but Jim Henry showed no signsof givin' in and I wouldn't. So we moped around, keepin' out of eachother's way, and actin' for all the world like a couple of young-ones inbad need of a switch.
A couple more days went by afore the answer came from Wareham. When Isaw the envelope on the desk, with the Watson man's name in the corner,I knew what it meant and I was on hand when Jim Henry opened it. He wasugly and scowlin' when he ripped off the envelope. Then I heard himswear. I was dyin' to know what the letter said, but I wouldn't haveasked him for no money. I walked out to the front of the store. Fiveminutes later I felt his hand on my shoulder. He had a curiousexpression on his face, sort of a mixture of mad and glad.
"Skipper," he says, "we're buncoed again. We don't get the Watsonplace."
"Don't, hey?" says I. "All right, I sha'n't shed any tears. I wa'n'tafter it, and you know it. But I'm surprised that your offer wa'n'taccepted. Why wa'n't it?"
"Because somebody got ahead of me. Here's the letter. Listen to this:'Your offer for my aunt's property in Ostable came a day too late.Yesterday I gave a year's option on that property, for five hundreddollars cash, to--'"
"Land of love!" I interrupted. "Only yesterday! That was close haulin',I must say."
"Wait," says he, "you haven't heard the whole of it. 'A year's option... for five hundred dollars cash, to Mr. Taylor of your town.'"
"Taylor!" says I. "_Taylor!_ My soul and body! The old skinflint beat usagain! Well, I swan!"
"Um-hm," says he. "I size it up like this. He saw us come out of therethe other day and guessed that we thought of buyin' and movin'. So, ashe owed us a grudge, and because the Watson property is, as you said, agood investment anyhow, he makes his option offer on the jump, and beatme to it."
I whistled. "I cal'late you've hit the nailhead, Jim," says I. "Well, tobe free and frank, I'm glad of it."
"So am I," says he.
_That_ was a staggerer. I whirled round and looked at him.
"You _are_?" I sung out.
"Yes," says he, "I am. Of course I had my heart set on gettin' that'Palace' for an addition that would give more room and extry space toour place here; and the only way I could see to get it was to take upwith that Rat's proposition. I haven't any prejudice againstbilliards--"
"Neither have I, but--"
"I know. And you're right. Old lady Watson has, and to run Foster'sestablishment in on her would have been a low-down mean trick. I've feltlike a thief, but I was so pig-headed I wouldn't back down. Now thatI've got it where the chicken got his, I'm glad of it, I really am.Partner, will you forget my meanness and shake hands?"
Would I? I was as tickled as a youngster with a new tin whistle. And sowas he.
"There's only one thing that keeps me mad," he says, "and that is thatold Ebenezer's got the laugh on us again. As for more room for thestore--well, we'll have to think that out."
We thought, but it wa'n't us that got the answer. 'Twas Mary Blaisdell.I told her what our fuss had been about, and she agreed that I was rightand that Jim Henry's sharp business sense had sort of run away with himfor the time bein'.
"But," says she, "we certainly do need more room, both in the maildepartment and the store. I've had an idea for some time. Let _me_ thinka while."
Next day she told Jacobs and me what her idea was. 'Twas that we shouldbuild an addition on to our own buildin'. Run it two stories high andright out into the back yard. 'Twas just the thing and the wonder isthat we hadn't thought of it ourselves.
"She's a wonder, Jim, ain't she?" says I, when we was alone together.
"_You_ think so, don't you, Skipper," says he, smilin'.
I flared up. "Sartin I do," I says. "Don't you?"
"Indeed I do."
"Then what do you mean?"
"Oh, nothin', nothin'. Say, have you seen old Taylor lately? I supposehe's crowin' like a Shanghai rooster. I do hate for that old skinflintto have the joke always on his side."
"I know," says I. "So do I. But some day, if we wait long enough, we mayhave a chance to laugh at him. I've lived a good many year and I've seenit work that way pretty often. We'll wait--and when we do laugh, we'lllaugh hard."
And we didn't have to wait so turrible long neither. We got a carpenterin, told him to keep it a secret, but to plan how we could build thebackyard extension. The plannin' and estimatin' kept us busy and weforgot about everything else. Fust along I expected young Taylor wouldpester us with more schemes, but he didn't. He never came nigh us once,fact is he seemed mighty anxious to keep out of our way, and so long ashe did we didn't complain. His dad come crowin' and chucklin' around acouple of times and finally Jacobs lost his temper and told him if heever showed his face on our premises again he was liable to be put tothe expense of havin' it repaired by the doctor. Ebenezer vowedvengeance and law suits, but he went, and after that he sent a boy forhis mail instead of comin' to fetch it himself.
One forenoon, about eleven o'clock 'twas, I was standin' on the storeplatform, when I heard the Old Harry's own row in the "Palace Billiard,Pool and Sipio Parlors." Loud voices, all goin' at once, and two orthree different assortments of language. Jim Henry heard it, too, andcome out to listen.
"Skipper," he says, sudden; "what day is this?"
"Why, Thursday," says I, "ain't it? Oh, you mean what day of the month.Hey? By the everlastin'! I declare if it ain't the fust of June!"
"The day Foster's mortgage falls due," he says, excited. "I wonder....You don't suppose--"
He didn't have to suppose, for inside of the next two minutes we bothknew. Three men came bustin' out of the billiard room door. One wasPhilander himself, the other was Ezra Colcord, the lawyer, and the thirdwas our old shipmate and bosom friend, Ebenezer Taylor. The old man wasfairly frothin' at the mouth.
"You--you--" he sputtered, "you've deceived me. You've lied to me. Youled me to think--"
"I don't see as you've got any kick, Mr. Taylor," purrs Philander,smilin'. "You've got your money. What more can you ask?"
"But--but I don't wa
nt the money. I want this property, and I'll haveit."
"Oh, no, you won't, Mr. Taylor," says Colcord, the lawyer. "Thisproperty belongs to Foster now. He's paid your mortgage in full. Youhave no rights here whatever and I advise you to go before you arearrested for trespassin'."
Well, the old man went, but he was still talkin' and threatenin' when heturned the corner. Colcord laughed and shook hands with Philander.
"Don't mind him, Foster," he says. "He's sore, that's all, but he has noclaim whatever. You've paid off your mortgage and the property is yoursabsolutely. As for the other matter, the papers will be ready forsignature this afternoon. Ha, ha! I imagine they won't add to ourfriend's joy."
"Cal'late not," says Philander, grinnin'. "This'll be his day forsurprises, hey?"
They shook hands again and Colcord left. Soon's he'd gone, Jim Henrygrabbed me by the arm. He didn't even wait for the lawyer to get out ofsight.
"Come on," he says. "This is too good to be true. We must find out aboutthis, Skipper."
So over to the "Parlors" we hurried. Philander looked sort of queer whenhe saw us comin', but he didn't run away. We commenced to ask questions,both of us together. After we'd asked a dozen or so, he held up hishand.
"Come inside," he says, "and I'll tell you about it. The secret'll beout in a little while, anyhow, and maybe we do owe you fellers a littlemite of explanation."
We went in, wonderin'. Philander set up the cigars, ten-centers at that,and then he says: "Yes, I've paid off my mortgage and I cal'late youwonder where the money came from. Five hundred of it I had myself. Youknew that."
"Yes," says Jacobs, and I nodded.
"Um-hm," says he. "Well, I loaned the five hundred to Ratty and hebought the option on Aunt Hannah's buildin' with it."
We fairly jumped off our pins.
"What?" says I.
"_Rat_ bought that option?" gasped Jim Henry. "Nonsense! his dad boughtit."
"No-o," says Philander, solemn, "'twas Rat that bought it at fust. Thewhole scheme was his and I give him credit for it. After Mr. Jacobs herehad agreed to look at the Watson place, Ratty got Ed. Holmes to take himover to Wareham in his auto. There he see this nephew of Aunt Hannah's,paid down his five hundred and got the option."
"But that letter I got said--" began Jim Henry, and then he pulled upshort. "No," says he, "it said 'Mr. Taylor' had secured the option; Iremember now. But, of course, we supposed it was Ebenezer."
"And Ebenezer did have it," I put in. "He told me so himself. I met himon the road and he--"
"Hold on, Cap'n," cuts in Philander, "no use goin' through all that.Ebenezer _has_ got it now. Ratty decoyed his dad down abreast the Watsonplace while you and Mr. Jacobs was inside lookin' it over, and the oldman see you two come out."
"I know he did," says I. "I saw him peekin' at us from behind a tree."
"Yes," goes on Foster, "he was there. And, naturally, he jedged you wascal'latin' to buy that buildin' and move into it. Fact is, he'd beenintendin' to buy it himself as an investment, and, now that there was achance to spite you fellers hove in for good measure, he was moreanxious to get it than ever. Then Rat broke the news that he had theoption and was willin' to sell it to the highest bidder. Ha! ha! I guessthere was a lively session, but the upshot of it was that Ebenezerbought that option off his boy for a thousand dollars. That's how _he_got it."
"Well, I'll be hanged!" says Jim Henry. I was way past sayin' anything.
"And so," continues Philander, "the five hundred dollars' profit on theoption and the five hundred dollars I lent Rat to start with made justthe amount needful to pay off my mortgage. And, Squire Colcord and mepaid it off this mornin'. You fellers heard the concludin' section ofthe ceremonies. Ebenezer's benediction was some spicy, hey!"
"But--but--why, look here, Philander," says I. "I don't understand thisat all. Five hundred of that thousand was Rat's. He ain't nophilanthropist; he wouldn't _give_ it to you, unless miracles are comin'into fashion again. What--"
Foster laughed. "There is a little somethin' underneath," he says. "It'sbeen kept pretty close, but the cat'll be out of the bag afore the day'sover and, considerin' how much you two helped without meanin' to, I'djust as soon tell you. Ratty told you that his pa was cal'latin' to sethim up in business, didn't he? Yes. Well, Rat's had a notion for a longspell about the business he meant to get into. There's a new sign beenordered for this shebang of mine. Here's the copy for it."
He reached under the cigar counter and held up a long piece ofpasteboard. 'Twas lettered like this:
PALACE BILLIARD, POOL AND SIPIO PARLORS.
_Philander Foster & Erastus Taylor,_
_Proprietors._
"I cal'late the old man'll disown his son when he knows it," goes onFoster, "but Rat had rather run a pool room than be rich, any day in theweek. And say," he adds, "if I was you fellers I'd try to be on handwhen Ebenezer fust sees the new sign. I should think you'd getconsider'ble satisfaction from watchin' his face. I'm cal'latin' to,myself," says Philander Foster.
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