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?"

His caller had risen, rather suddenly for him, and was standing beside
the desk. There was a peculiar expression on his thin face.

"What's the matter?" demanded Mr. Pulcifer. Galusha's gaze was very
direct.

"I wouldn't say that," he said, quietly.

"Eh? Say what? I was just goin' to say that if Martha Phipps didn't like
waitin' same as the rest of us she--"

"Yes, yes," hastily, "I know. But I shouldn't say it, if I were you."

"You wouldn't. Why not, for thunder sakes?"

"Because--well, I am sure you were speaking hastily--without thinking."

"Is that so? How do YOU know I wasn't thinkin'?"

"Because I am sure no one who had stopped to think would send that sort
of message to a lady."

"Humph!... Well, I swear!... Wouldn't send--I want to know!"

"Yes--ah--and now you do know. Good-day, Mr. Pulcifer."

He was at the door when the surprised and, to tell the truth, somewhat
disconcerted Horatio called after him.

"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?"

"I said I understood, Mr. Pulcifer."

"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?"

"Nothing. Good-day, Mr. Pulcifer."

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.

"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."

Galusha devoutly wished the time would come soon. He somewhat felt a
g