ce,
really. The Lord knows I shouldn't care so long as I sell it honestly
and don't cheat anybody. And a big house like Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot
ought to know what they're doin' when they buy, or let any of their
customers buy. I'll get the certificate this very minute, Mr. Bangs."

She hastened up the stairs. Galusha wiped his forehead and breathed
heavily. There was a knock on the door leading to the dining room; it
opened 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 the
door to close. Miss Phipps appeared, her hand clasping a highly ornate
document.

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

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

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

"Eh? Why--why, I presume it had.... Dear me, yes.... It would be a--a
joke 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 actually
be--ah--humorous, of course. I meant... I meant.... Really, I don't
think I know what I meant."

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

"Please, please, Miss Martha! Dear me, dear me, DON'T speak in that
way. It's so--ah--nonsensical, you know. Now if--if I may have my coat
and--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 of
it until this minute--the train doesn't go for '