ven 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."

Martha didn't know, nor did she in the least understand, but she did
not, of course, press the subject.

"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."

Galusha nodded assent.

"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."

Miss Phipps laughed.

"And that I suppose is enough to keep one man busy," she observed.

Galusha was too much in earnest to notice the sarcasm.

"I'm sure it must be," he said. "I never could do it myself."

"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?"

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.

"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."

Galusha said that a letter was so slow.

"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."

He reflected for a moment, and then ruefully shook his head.

"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."

"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 Develop