ver, 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."

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 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...."

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 ....

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 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 si