XX

THE FATTED CALF

Abe had no such qualms as Samuel. He wanted to see Angy that minute, and
he did not care if she did know why he had returned.

He fairly ran to the back door under the grape arbor, so that Samuel,
observing his gait, was seized with a fear that he might be that young
Abe of the Beach, during his visit, after all.

Abraham rushed into the kitchen without stopping to knock. "I'm back,
Mother," he cried, as if that were all the joyful explanation needed.

She was struggling with the strings of her bonnet before the
looking-glass which adorned Blossy's parlor-kitchen. She turned to him
with a little cry, and he saw that her face had changed
marvelously--grown young, grown glad, grown soft and fresh with a new
excited spirit of jubilant thanksgiving.

"Oh, Father! Weren't yew s'prised tew git the telephone? I knowed yew'd
come a-flyin' back."

Blossy appeared from the room beyond, and slipped past them, knowing
intuitively where she would find her lord and master; but neither of
them observed her entrance or her exit.

Angy clung to Abe, and Abe held her close. What had happened to her, the
undemonstrative old wife? What made her so happy, and yet tremble so?
Why did she cry, wetting his cheek with her tears, when she was so
palpably glad? Why had she telephoned for him, unless she, too, had
missed him as he had missed her?

Recalling his memories of last night, the memories of that long-ago
honeymoon-time, he murmured into his gray beard, "Dearest!"

She did not seem to think he was growing childish. She was not even
surprised. At last she said, half between sobbing and laughing:

"Oh, Abe, ain't God been good to us? Ain't it jist bewtiful to be rich?
Rich!" she cried. "Rich!"

Abe sat down suddenly, and covered his face with his hands. In a flash
he understood, and he could not let even Angy see him in the light of
the revelation.

"The minin' stock!" he muttered; and then low to himself, in an awed
whisper: "Tenafly Gold! The minin' stock!"

After a while he recovered himself sufficiently to explain that he had
not received the telephone message, and therefore knew nothing.

"Did I git a offer, Mother?"

"A offer of fifteen dollars a share. The letter come last night fer yew,
an' I--"

"Fifteen dollars a share!" He was astounded. "An' we've got five
thousand shares! Fifteen dollars, an' I paid ninety cents! Angy, ef ever
I ketch yew fishin' yer winter bunnit out of a charit