CHAPTER IV
Galusha Cabot Bangs' first day in East Wellmouth was spent for themost part indoors. He was willing that it should he; the stiffness andlameness in various parts of his body, together with the shakiness atthe knees which he experienced when he tried to walk, warned him thata trip abroad would not be a judicious undertaking. The doctor havinggranted him permission, however, he did go out into the yard for a briefperiod.
Gould's Bluffs and their surroundings were more attractive on thispleasant October afternoon than on the previous evening. The Phippshouse was a story and a half cottage, of the regulation Cape Cod type,with a long "L" and sheds connecting it with a barn and chicken yards.The house was spotlessly white, with blinds conventionally green, asmost New England houses are. There was a white fence shutting it offfrom the road, the winding, narrow road which even yet held puddlesand pools of mud in its hollows, souvenirs of the downpour of the nightbefore. Across the road, perhaps a hundred yards away, was the long,brown--and now of course bleak--broadside of the Restabit Inn, itsveranda looking lonesome and forsaken even in the brilliant light ofday. Behind it and beyond it were rolling hills, brown and bare, exceptfor the scattered clumps of beach-plum and bayberry bushes. There wereno trees, except a grove of scrub pine perhaps a mile away. Between thehigher hills and over the tops of the lower ones Galusha caught glimpsesof the sea. In the opposite direction lay a little cluster of roofs,with a church spire rising above them. He judged this to be EastWellmouth village.
The road, leading from the village, wound in and out between the hills,past the Restabit Inn and the Phipps homestead until it ended at anotherclump of buildings; a house, with ells and extensions, several otherbuildings and sheds, and a sturdy white and black lighthouse. He wasleaning upon the fence rail peering through his spectacles when Primmiecame up behind him.
"That's a lighthouse you're lookin' at, Mr. Bangs," she observed, withthe air of one imparting valuable information.
Galusha started; he had not heard her coming.
"Eh? Oh! Yes, so I--ah--surmised," he said.
"Hey? What did you do?"
"I say I thought it was a lighthouse."
"'Tis. Ever see one afore, have you?"
Galusha admitted that he had seen a lighthouse before. "Kind ofinterestin' things, ain't they? You know I never realized till I comedown here to live what interestin' things lighthouses was. There's somuch TO 'em, you know, ain't there?"
"Why--ah--is there?"
"I should say there was. I don't mean the tower part, though that'sinterestin' of itself, with them round and round steps--What is it MissMartha said folks called 'em? Oh, yes, spinal stairs, that's it. I neversee any spinal stairs till I come here. They don't have 'em up to NorthMashpaug. That's where I used to live, up to North Mashpaug. Ever beento North Mashpaug, Mr. Bangs?"
"No."
"Well, a good many folks ain't, far's that goes. Where _I_ lived wasway off in the woods, anyhow. My family was Indian, way back. Not allIndian, but some, you know; the rest was white, though Pa he used tocal'late there might be a little Portygee strung along in somewhere.It's kind of funny to be all mixed up that way, ain't it? Hello, there'sCap'n Jethro! See him? See him?"
Bangs saw the figure of a man emerge from the door of the white houseby the light and stand upon the platform. There was nothing particularlyexciting about the man's appearance, but Primmie seemed to be excited.
"See him, Mr. Bangs?" she repeated.
"Yes, I see him. Who is he?"
"Don't you know? No, course you don't; why should you? He's Cap'n JethroHallett, keeps the lighthouse, he does--him and Lulie and Zach."
"Oh, he is the light keeper, is he? What has he got his head tied upfor?"
"Hey? HEAD tied up?"
"Why, yes. Isn't there something gray--a--ah--scarf or something tiedabout his head? I think I see it flutter in the wind."
"That? That ain't no scarf, them's his whiskers. He wears 'em long andthey blow consider'ble. Say, what do you think?" Primmie leaned forwardand whispered mysteriously. "He sees his wife."
Galusha turned to look at her. Her expression was a combination of aweand excitement.
"I--I beg your pardon," he stammered, "but really I--What did you say hedid?"
"I said he sees his wife. Anyhow, he thinks he does. She comes to himnights and stands alongside of his bed and they talk. Ain't that awful?"
Galusha took off his spectacles and rubbed them.
"Ain't it awful, Mr. Bangs?" repeated Primmie.
Galusha's faint smile twitched the corners of his lips. "We-ll," heobserved, "I--really I can't say. I never met the lady."
"What difference does that make? If a dead woman come and stoodalongside of MY bed 'twouldn't make no difference to me whether I'd METher or not. Meetin' of her then would be enough. My Lord of Isrul!"
"Oh--oh, I beg your pardon. Do I understand you to say thatthis--ah--gentleman's wife is dead?"
"Um-hm. Been dead seven year, so Miss Martha says. That's what I meanwhen I say it's awful. Wouldn't you think 'twas awful if a woman thathad been dead seven year come and stood alongside of you?"
Galusha smiled again. "Yes," he admitted, "I am inclined to thinkI--ah--should."
"You bet you would! So'd anybody but Jethro Hallet. He likes it. Yes,sir! And he goes to every medium place from here to Boston, seems so,so's to have more talks with them that's over the river."
"Eh? Over the--Oh, yes, I comprehend. Dead, you mean. Then this Mr.Hallet is a Spiritualist, I take it."
"Um-hm. Rankest kind of a one. Course everybody believes in SpiritulismSOME, can't help it. Miss Martha says she don't much and Zach Bloomerhe says he cal'lates his doubts keep so close astern of his beliefs thatit's hard to tell which'll round the stake boat first. But there ain'tno doubt about Cap'n Jethro's believin', he's rank."
"I see. Well, is he--is he rational in other ways? It seems odd to havea--ah--an insane man in charge of--"
"Insane? My savin' soul, what put that idea in your head? He ain'tcrazy, Jethro Hallet ain't. He's smart. Wuth consider'ble money, sothey say, and hangs on to it, too. Used to be cap'n of a four-mastedschooner, till he hurt his back and had to stay ashore. His back'sgot to hurtin' him worse lately and Zach and Miss Martha they cal'latethat's why Lulie give up her teachin' school up to Ostable and come downhere to live along with him. I heard 'em talkin' about it t'other dayand that's what they cal'late. Miss Martha she thinks a sight of Lulie."
"And--ah--this Miss Lulie is the light keeper's daughter?" Bangs wasnot especially interested in the Hallett family, but he found Primmieamusing.
"Uh-hm. All the child he's got. Some diff'rent from our tribe; there wasthirteen young ones in our family. Pa used to say he didn't care long'swe didn't get so thick he'd step on ary one of us. He didn't care abouta good many things, Pa didn't. Ma had to do the carin' and most of thework, too. Yes, Lulie's Jethro's daughter and he just bows down andworships her."
"I see. I see. And is--ah--Miss Hallett as spookily inclined as herparent?"
"Hey?"
"Is she a Spiritualist, too?"
"No, no. Course she don't say much on her pa's account, but Zach saysshe don't take no stock in it. Lulie has to be pretty careful, 'causeever since Cap'n Jethro found out about Nelse he--Hey? Yes'm, I'ma-comin'."
Miss Phipps had called to her from the kitchen door. Galusha stood bythe fence a while longer. Then he went in to supper. Before he went tohis room that night he asked his landlady a question.
"That--ah--maid of yours has a peculiar name, hasn't she?" he observed."Primmie. I think I never heard it before."
Miss Martha laughed.
"I should say it was peculiar!" she exclaimed. "Her Christian name isPrimrose, if you can call such a name Christian. I almost died when Iheard it first. She's a queer blossom, Primmie is, a little too much tarin her upper riggin', as father used to say, but faithful and willin' asa person could be. I put up with her tongue and her--queerness on thataccount. Some friends of mi
ne over at Falmouth sent her to me; they knewI needed somebody in the house after father died. Her name is PrimroseAnnabel Cash and she comes from a nest of such sort of folks in theMashpaug woods. She provokes me sometimes, but I have a good deal of funwith her on the whole. You ought to see her and Zacheus Bloomer togetherand hear 'em talk; THEN you would think it was funny."
"Is this Mr.--ah--Bloomer queer also?"
"Why, yes, I presume likely he is. Not foolish, you understand, or evena little bit soft like Primmie. He's shrewd enough, Zach is, but he'speculiar, that's about it. Has a queer way of talkin' and walkin'--yes,and thinkin'. He's put in the most of his life in out-of-the-way places,boat-fishin' all alone off on the cod banks, or attendin' to lobsterpots way down in the South Channel, or aboard lightships two miles fromnowhere. That's enough to make any man queer, bein' off by himself so.Why, this place of assistant light keeper here at Gould's Bluffs isthe most sociable job Zach Bloomer has had for ten years, I shouldn'twonder. And Gould's Bluffs isn't Washington Street, exactly," she added,with a smile.
"Have you lived here long, Miss Phipps?" inquired Galusha.
"Pretty nearly all my life, and that's long enough, goodness knows.Father bought this place in 1893, I think it was. He was goin' coastin'voyages then. Mother died in 1900 and he gave up goin' to sea that year.He and I lived here together until two years ago next August; then hedied. I have been here since, with Primmie to help. I suppose likely Ishall stay here now until I die--or dry up with old age and blow away,or somethin'. That is, I shall stay provided I--I can."
There was a change in her tone as she spoke the last words. Galusha,glancing up, saw that she was gazing out of the window. He waited forher to go on, but she did not. He looked out of the window also, butthere was nothing to be seen, nothing except the fields and hills, coldand bleak in the gathering dusk. After an interval she stirred and rosefrom her chair.
"Ah, well," she said, with a shrug, and a return to her usual briskmanner, "there isn't a bit of use in makin' today to-morrow, is there,Mr. Bangs? And today's been nice and pleasant, and they can't take itfrom us."
Galusha looked very much surprised. "Why, dear me, dear me!" heexclaimed. "That's extremely odd, now really."
"What?"
"Why, your--ah--remark about making to-day to-morrow. Almost preciselythe same thing was said to me at one time by another person. It is quiteextraordinary."
"Oh, not so very, I guess. A million folks must have thought it and saidit since Adam. Who said it to you, Mr. Bangs?"
"A--ah--person in Abyssinia. He had stolen my--ah--shirt and I warnedhim that he should be punished on the following day. He laughed andI asked him what there was to laugh at. Then he made the remark aboutto-morrow's being afar off and that today the sun shone, or wordsto that effect. It seems strange that you should say it. Quite acoincidence, Miss Phipps, don't you think so?"
"Why--why, I suppose you might call it that. But WHAT did you say thisman had stolen?"
"My--ah--shirt. I had another, of course; in fact I was wearing it, butthe one he took was the only whole one remaining in my kit. I was quiteprovoked."
"I should think you might have been. What sort of creature was he, forgoodness sakes?"
"Oh, he was an Arab camel driver. A very good man, too."
"Yes, he must have been. Did you get your shirt back?"
"No--ah--no. The fact is, he had put it on and--as he was rather--well,soiled, so to speak, I let him keep it. And he really was a very goodman, I mean a good camel driver."
Miss Martha regarded her guest thoughtfully.
"Where did you say this was, Mr. Bangs?"
"In the Abyssinian desert. We were there at the time."
"Abyssinia? Abyssinia? That's in Africa, isn't it?"
"Yes, northern Africa."
"Mercy me, that's a long way off."
"Oh, not so very, when one becomes accustomed to the journey. The firsttime I found it rather tiring, but not afterward."
"Not afterward. You mean you've been there more than once?"
"Yes--ah--yes. Three times."
"But why in the world do you go to such an outlandish place as thatthree times?"
"Oh, on research work, connected with my--ah--profession. There are somevery interesting remains in that section."
"What did you say your business--your profession was, Mr. Bangs?"
"I am an archaeologist, Miss Phipps."
"Oh!"
He went to his room soon afterwards. Martha went into the dining room.A suspicious rustle as she turned the door knob caused her to frown.Primmie was seated close to the wall on the opposite side of the roomindustriously peeling apples. Her mistress regarded her intently, aregard which caused its object to squirm in her chair.
"It's--it's a kind of nice night, ain't it, Miss Martha?" she observed.
Miss Martha did not answer. "Primmie Cash," she said, severely, "you'vebeen listen in' again. Don't deny it."
"Now--now Miss Martha, I didn't mean to, really, but--"
"Do you want to go back to the Mashpaug poorhouse again?"
"No'm. You know I don't, Miss Martha. I didn't mean to do it, butI heard him talkin' and it was SO interestin'. That about the camelstealin' his shirt--my soul! And--"
"If you listen again I WILL send you back; I mean it."
"I won't, ma'am. I won't. Now--"
"Be still. Where is our dictionary? It isn't in the closet with theother books where it ought to be. Do you know where it is?"
"No'm.... Yes'm, come to think of it, I do. Lulie Hallet borrowed it theother day. Her and Zach Bloomer was havin' a lot of talk about how tospell somethin' and Lulie she got our dictionary so's to settle it--andZach. I'll fetch it back to-morrow mornin'.... But what do you want thedictionary for, Miss Martha?"
Martha shook her head, with the air of one annoyed by a puzzle theanswer to which should be familiar.
"I'm goin' to find out what an archaeologist is," she declared. "I oughtto know, but I declare I don't."
"An arky-what? Oh, that's what that little Mr. Bangs said he was, didn'the? You know what _I_ think he is, Miss Martha?"
"No, I don't. You go to bed, Primmie."
"_I_ think he's an undertaker."
"Undertaker! Good heavens and earth, what put that in your head?"
"Everything. Look at them clothes he wears, black tail-coat and whiteshirt and stand-up collar and all. Just exactly same as Emulous Doddwears when he's runnin' a funeral. Yes, and more'n that--more'n that,Miss Martha. Didn't you hear what he said just now about 'remains'?"
"WHAT?"
"Didn't you ask him what he went traipsin' off to that--that camel placefor? And didn't he say there was some interestin' remains there. Uh-hm!that's what he said--'remains.' If he ain't an undertaker what--"
Martha burst out laughing. "Primmie," she said, "go to bed. And don'tforget to get that dictionary to-morrow mornin'."
The next day was Sunday and the weather still fine. Galusha Bangs wasby this time feeling very much stronger. Miss Phipps commented upon hisappearance at breakfast time.
"I declare," she exclaimed, "you look as if you'd really had a goodnight's rest, Mr. Bangs. Now you'll have another biscuit and anotheregg, won't you?"
Galusha, who had already eaten one egg and two biscuits, was obliged todecline. His hostess seemed to think his appetite still asleep.
After breakfast he went out for a walk. There was a brisk, cool windblowing and Miss Martha cautioned him against catching cold. Sheinsisted upon his wrapping a scarf of her own, muffler fashion, abouthis neck beneath his coat collar and lent him a pair of mittens--theywere Primmie's property--to put on in case his hands were cold. He hadone kid glove in his pocket, but only one.
"Dear me!" he said. "I can't think what became of the other. I'm quitecertain I had two to begin with."
Martha laughed. "I'm certain of that myself," she said. "I never heardof anybody's buying gloves one at a time."
Her guest smiled. "It might be well for
me to buy them that way," heobserved. "My brain doesn't seem equal to the strain of taking care ofmore than one."
Primmie and her mistress watched him from the window as he meandered outof the yard. Primmie made the first remark.
"There now, Miss Martha," she said, "DON'T he look like an undertaker?Them black clothes and that standin' collar and--and--the kind of stillway he walks--and talks. Wouldn't you expect him to be sayin': 'Thefriends of the diseased will now have a chanct to--'"
"Oh, be still, Primmie, for mercy sakes!"
"Yes'm. What thin little legs he's got, ain't he?" Miss Phipps did notreply to her housemaid's criticism of the Bangs limbs. Instead, she madean observation of her own.
"Where in the world did he get that ugly, brown, stiff hat?" shedemanded. "It doesn't look like anything that ever grew on land or sea."
Primmie hitched up her apron strings, a habit she had.
"'Twould have been a better job," she observed, "if that camel thinghe was tellin' you about had stole that hat instead of his other shirt.Don't you think so, Miss Martha?"
Meanwhile Galusha, ignorant of the comments concerning his appearance,was strolling blithely along the road. His first idea had been to visitthe lighthouse, his next to walk to the village. He had gone but ashort distance, however, when another road branching off to the rightsuggested itself as a compromise. He took the branch road.
It wound in and out among the little hills which he had noticed fromthe windows and from the yard of the Phipps' house. It led past a littlepond, hidden between two of those hills. Then it led to the top ofanother hill, the highest so far, and from that point Galusha paused tolook about him.
From the hilltop the view was much the same, but more extensive. Theocean filled the whole eastern horizon, a shimmering, moving expanse ofblue and white, with lateral stretches of light and dark green. To thesouth were higher hills, thickly wooded. Between his own hill andthose others was a small grove of pines and, partially hidden by it, aweather-beaten building with a steeple, its upper half broken off. Thebuilding, Galusha guessed, was an abandoned church. Now an old church inthe country suggested, naturally, an old churchyard. Toward the buildingwith half a steeple Mr. Bangs started forthwith.
There WAS a churchyard, an ancient, grass-grown burying ground, withslate gravestones and weather-worn tombs. There were a few new stones,gleaming white and conspicuous, but only a few. Galusha's trained eye,trained by his unusual pastime of college days, saw at once that theoldest stones must date from early colonial times. Very likely theremight be some odd variations of the conventional carvings, almostcertainly some quaint and interesting inscriptions. It would, of course,be but tame sport for one of the world's leading Egyptologists, but toGalusha Cabot Bangs research was research, and while some varieties werebetter than others, none was bad. A moment later he was on his kneesbefore the nearest gravestone. It was an old stone and the inscriptionand carving were interesting. Time paused there and then for Galusha.
What brought him from the dead past to the living present was the factthat his hat blew off. The particular stone which he was examining atthe moment was on the top of a little knoll and, as Galusha clamberedup and stooped, the breeze, which had increased in force until it was ayoung gale, caught the brown derby beneath its brim and sent it flying.He scrambled after it, but it dodged his clutch and rolled and boundedon. He bounded also, but the hat gained. It caught for an instant on theweather side of a tombstone, but just as he was about to pick it up, afresh gust sent it sailing over the obstacle. It was dashed against theside of the old church and then carried around the end of the buildingand out of sight. Its owner plunged after it and, a moment later, foundhimself at the foot of a grass-covered bank, a good deal disheveledand very much surprised. Also, close at hand some one screamed, ina feminine voice, and another voice, this one masculine, uttered anemphatically masculine exclamation.
Galusha sat up. The old church was placed upon a side-hill, its reartoward the cemetery which he had just been exploring, and its front dooron a level at least six feet lower. He, in his wild dash after the brownderby, had not noticed this and, rushing around the corner, had beenprecipitated down the bank. He was not hurt, but he was rumpled andastonished. No more astonished, however, than were the young couple whohad been sitting upon the church steps and were now standing, staringdown at him.
Galusha spoke first.
"Oh, dear!" he observed. "Dear me!" Then he added, by way of making thesituation quite clear, "I must have fallen, I think."
Neither of the pair upon the church steps seemed to have recoveredsufficiently to speak, so Mr. Bangs went on.
"I--I came after my hat," he explained. "You see--Oh, there it is!"
The brown derby was stuck fast in the bare branches of an ancient lilacbush which some worshiper of former time had planted by the church door.Galusha rose and limped over to rescue his truant property.
"It blew off," he began, but the masculine half of the pair who hadwitnessed his flight from the top to the bottom of the bank, cameforward. He was a dark-haired young man, with a sunburned, pleasantface.
"Say, that was a tumble!" he declared. "I hope you didn't hurt yourself.No bones broken, or anything like that?"
Galusha shook his head. "No-o," he replied, somewhat doubtfully. "No, Ithink not. But, dear me, what a foolish thing for me to do!"
The young man spoke again.
"Sure you're not hurt?" he asked. "Let me brush you off; you picked up alittle mud on the way down."
Galusha looked at the knees of his trousers.
"So I did, so I did," he said. "I don't remember striking at all on theway, but I could scarcely have accumulated all that at the bottom. Thankyou, thank you!... Why, dear me, your face is quite familiar! Haven't wemet before?"
The young fellow smiled. "I guess we have," he said. "I put you aboardLovetts' express wagon Friday afternoon and started you for WellmouthCentre. I didn't expect to see you over here in East Wellmouth."
Galusha adjusted his spectacles--fortunately they were not broken--andlooked at the speaker.
"Why, of course!" he cried. "You are the young man who was so kind to mewhen I got off at the wrong station. You are the station man at--ah--atSouth Wellmouth, isn't it?"
"That's right."
"Dear me! Dear me! Well, I don't wonder you were surprised to haveme--ah--alight at your feet just now. We-ll," with his quiet smile, "Iseem to have a habit of making unexpected appearances. I surprised MissPhipps on Friday evening almost as greatly."
"Miss Phipps? Martha Phipps, Cap'n Jim's daughter; lives over here bythe light, do you mean?"
"Why--why, yes her name is Martha, I believe."
"But how in the world did you get--"
His companion interrupted him. "Why, Nelson," she cried, "he must bethe one--the man who is staying at Martha's. Don't you know I told youPrimmie said there was some one there who was sick?"
Galusha looked at her. She was young, not more than nineteen or twenty,slender, brown-haired and pretty. The young man spoke again.
"But Lulie," he said, "he isn't sick. You aren't sick, are you?"addressing Galusha.
"My health has not been good of late," replied the latter, "and aftermy long walk on Friday evening I was rather done up. But I'm not ill atpresent, although," with a return of his faint smile, "I probably shallbe if I continue to--ah--fly, as I did just now."
The young woman broke into an irresistible trill of laughter. The SouthWellmouth station agent joined her. Galusha smiled in a fatherly fashionupon them both.
"I had quite a series of adventures after leaving you," he went on."Quite a series--yes."
He told briefly of his losing his way, of his meeting with RaishPulcifer, of his tramp in the rain, and of his collapse in the Phipps'sitting room.
"So that is--ah--my Odyssey," he concluded. "You see, we--ah--I beg yourpardon, but I don't know that I learned your name when we met the otherday. Mine is Bangs."
"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Bangs. My
name is Howard--Nelson Howard. Andthis is--"
He paused. The young woman was regarding him in a troubled way.
"Nelson," she said, "don't you think, perhaps, we had better not--"
They were both embarrassed. Galusha noticed the embarrassment.
"Dear me! Dear me!" he said, hastily. "Please don't trouble.Ah--good-morning. I must go--really--yes."
He was on his way toward the bank, but the young woman called his name.
"Mr. Bangs," she said.
He turned. "Did you--did you wish to speak to me?" he asked.
"Why--why, yes, I--Mr. Bangs, I--I want to ask a favor of you. I know,Nelson, but what is the use, after all? We've done nothing to be ashamedof. Mr. Bangs, my name is Hallett. My father is the keeper of thelighthouse."
Galusha bowed. He had guessed her identity. Primmie had spoken of LulieHallett in their conversation by the fence the day before.
"I am Lulie Hallett," she went on, "and--and Mr. Howard and Iare--are--"
"We're engaged to be married," broke in Howard. "The fact is, Mr. Bangs,I came over on my bicycle this morning to meet Lulie here where--whereno one would see us. You see--well, Cap'n Jethro--her father, youknow--is prejudiced against me and--and so to save her trouble and--andunpleasantness we--well, we--"
He was red and confused and stammering. Galusha was almost as muchembarrassed.
"Oh--oh, all right--ah--dear me, yes, of course," he said, hastily. "Iam very sorry I--I interrupted. I beg your pardon. Ah--good-morning."
"But, Mr. Bangs," Lulie pleaded, earnestly, "you won't misunderstandthis, will you? We meet in this way on my father's account. He is--yousee, he is not very well, and rather prejudiced and--and stubborn, I'mafraid. Please don't think that--that--"
"Of course he won't," declared Howard. "Mr. Bangs won't think anythingthat he shouldn't."
"Oh, no--no," stammered Galusha, nervously. "I am--I am SO sorry Iinterrupted. I BEG your pardon."
"And Mr. Bangs," said Lulie, again, "I wonder if you will be kind enoughnot to tell any one you saw us? This is a small place, East Wellmouth,and people do talk--oh, dreadfully. If it got to father's earshe--PLEASE don't speak of it, will you, Mr. Bangs?"
"Oh, no; no, indeed, Miss Hallett. You may depend upon me."
"I shall tell Martha Phipps myself the next time I see her. She is mybest friend, except--" with a becoming blush--"Nelson, and father, ofcourse--and she understands. I never have any secrets from her."
Galusha began to climb the bank. As his head rose above its upper edgehe stopped.
"Ah--dear me, there's some one coming in this direction," he said.
Howard started forward. "Coming? Coming here?" he cried. He sprang upthe bank beside Mr. Bangs and peered over its top.
"Oh, confound it!" he exclaimed. "Lulie, it's your father."
"Father? Coming here? Why, he started for church. He never comes to thecemetery on Sunday MORNING."
"I can't help it, he's coming now. And there's some one with him, orcoming after him. It looks like--Yes, it's Raish Pulcifer."
Miss Hallett was very much distressed. "Oh, dear, dear, dear!" shecried. "If father finds us there will be another dreadful time. AndI wouldn't have Raish Pulcifer see and hear it, of all people in theworld. Oh, WHAT made father come? Nelson, can't we run away before hegets here? Into the pines, or somewhere?"
"No chance, Lulie. He would see us sure. If he should stop at the otherend of the cemetery it might give us a chance, but he probably won't.He'll come to your mother's grave and that is close by here. Oh, hangthe luck!"
Galusha looked at the young people; he was almost as distressed as theywere. He liked young Howard; the latter had been very kind to him onthe fateful Friday afternoon when he had alighted at South Wellmouth.He liked Lulie, also--had fancied her at first sight. He wished he mighthelp them. And then he had an idea.
"I wouldn't--ah--interfere in your affairs for the world, MissHallett," he faltered, "but if I might--ah--offer a suggestion, supposeI--ah--meet your father and talk with him for a few moments. Then youmight--so to speak--ah--go, you know."
"Yes, of course, of course. Oh, WILL you, Mr. Bangs? Thank you so much."
Galusha climbed the bank. There was no one in sight, but he heardmasculine voices from the hollow beyond the farther end of the cemetery.He hastened to that end and, stooping, began to examine the inscriptionupon a tomb.
The voices drew nearer as the men climbed the hill. The breeze now wasstronger than ever and was blowing more from the west. The conversation,borne by the gusts, came to Galusha's ears clearly and distinctly. Oneof the speakers seemed to be explaining, urging, the other peremptorilyrefusing to listen.
"But, Cap'n Jeth," urged the first voice, and Mr. Bangs recognized it asbelonging to his obliging guide and pilot of the fateful Friday evening,Mr. Horatio Pulcifer. "But, Cap'n Jeth," said Mr. Pulcifer, "don't flyoff the handle for nothin'. I ain't tryin' to put nothin' over on you.I'm just--"
"I don't want to hear you," broke in the second voice, gruffly. "Thisis the Lord's Day and I don't want to talk business with you or nobodyelse--especially with you."
For some reason this seemed to irritate Mr. Pulcifer. His tone had losta little of its urbanity when he answered.
"Oh, especially with me, eh?" he repeated. "Well, what's the 'especiallywith me' for? If you think I'm any more to blame than the rest, you'remistaken. I tell you when you and me and Cap'n Jim and all hands of usgot the Wellmouth Development Company goin' it looked like a cinch. Howwas I to know?"
"I tell you, Raish, I don't want to talk about it."
"And I tell you, Jeth Hallett, I DO want to. You've hove in that'especially with me' and I don't like it. Look here, what are youpickin' on me for? How was I to--No, now you wait a minute, Cap'n Jeth,and answer me. I've chased you 'way over here and you can give me fiveminutes even if 'tis Sunday. Come, Cap'n, come, just answer me and thenI won't bother you any more."
There was silence for a brief interval. Galusha, crouching behind thetomb and wondering if the time had come for him to show himself, waitedanxiously. But Captain Hallett's answer, when at last he did reply,sounded no nearer. Apparently the men were now standing still.
"Well," grunted the light keeper, "I'll listen to you for the fiveminutes, Raish, but no more. I hadn't ought to do that. This is Sabbathday and I make it a p'int never--"
"I know," hastily, "I know. Well, I tell you, Cap'n Jeth, all's I wantedto say was this: What are we goin' to do with this Development stock ofours?"
"Do with it? Why, nothin' at present. CAN'T do anything with it, canwe? All we can do is wait. It may be one year or three, but some daysomebody will have to come to us. There ain't a better place for a coldstorage fish house on this coast and the Wellmouth Development Companyowns that place."
"Yes, that's so, that's so. But some of us can afford to wait and somecan't. Now I've got more of the Development Company stock than anybodyelse. I've got five hundred shares, Cap'n Jeth; five hundred sharesat twenty dollars a share. A poor man like me can't afford to have tenthousand dollars tied up as long's this is liable to be. Can he now? Eh?Can he, Cap'n?"
"Humph! Well, I've got eight thousand tied up there myself."
"Ye-es, but it don't make so much difference to you. You can afford towait. You've got a gov'ment job."
"Ye-es, and from what I hear you may be havin' a state job pretty soonyourself, Raish. Well, never mind that. What is it you're drivin' at,anyhow?"
"Why, I tell you, Jeth. Course you know and I know that this is aperfectly sure investment to anybody that'll wait. I can't afford towait, that's what's the matter. It kind of run acrost my mind that maybeyou'd like to have my holdin's, my five hundred shares. I'll sell 'em toyou reasonable."
"Humph! I want to know! What do you call reasonable?"
"I'll sell 'em to you for--for--well, say nineteen dollars a share."
"Humph! Don't bother me any more, Raish."
"Well, say eighteen dollars a share. Lord sakes, that's r
easonableenough, ain't it?"
"Cruise along towards home, Raish. I've talked all the business I wantto on Sunday. Good-by."
"Look here, Jethro, I--I'm hard up, I'm desp'rate, pretty nigh. I'lllet you have my five hundred shares of Wellmouth Development Companyfor just half what I paid for it--ten dollars a share. If you wasn't myfriend, I wouldn't--What are you laughin' at?"
Galusha Bangs, hiding behind the tomb, understanding nothing of thisconversation, yet feeling like an eavesdropper, wished this provokingpair would stop talking and go away. He heard the light keeper laughsardonically.
"Ho, ho, ho," chuckled Hallett. "You're a slick article, ain't you,Raish? Why, you wooden-headed swab, did you cal'late you was the onlyone that had heard about the directors' meetin' over to the DenboroTrust Company yesterday? _I_ knew the Trust Company folks had decidednot to go ahead with the fish storage business just as well as you did,and I heard it just as soon, too. _I_ know they've decided to put thetwelve hundred shares of Wellmouth Development stock into profit andloss, or to just hang on and see if it ever does come to anything. Butyou cal'lated I didn't know it and that maybe you could unload your fivehundred shares on to me at cut rates, eh? Raish, you're slick--but youain't bright, not very."
He chuckled again. Mr. Pulcifer whistled, apparently expressingresignation.
"ALL right, Cap'n," he observed, cheerfully, "just as you say. No harmin tryin', was there? Never catch a fish without heavin' over a hook,as the feller said. Maybe somebody else that ain't heard will buy thatstock, you can't tell."
"Maybe so, but--See here, Raish, don't you go tryin' anything like thison--on--"
"I know who you mean. No danger. There ain't money enough there to buyanything, if what I hear's true."
"What's that?"
"Oh, nothin', nothin'. Just talk, I guess. Well, Jeth, I won't keep youany longer. Goin' to hang on to YOUR four hundred Development stock, Ipresume likely?"
"Yes. I shall sell that at a profit. Not a big profit, but a profit."
"Sho! Is that so? Who told you?"
"It was," the gruff voice became solemn, "it was revealed to me."
"Revealed to you? Oh, from up yonder, up aloft, eh?"
"Raish," sharply, "don't you dare be sacrilegious in my presence."
"No, no, not for nothin', Cap'n. So you had a message from the speritworld about that stock, eh?"
"Yes. It bade me be of good cheer and hold for a small profit. When thatprofit comes, no matter how small it may be, I'll sell and sell quick,but not sooner.... But there, I've profaned the Lord's day long enough.I came over here this mornin' to visit Julia's grave. There was ascoffer in our pulpit, that young whippersnapper from Wapatomac hadexchanged with our minister and I didn't care to hear him."
"Oh, I see. So you come over to your wife's grave, eh?"
"Yes. What are you lookin' like that for?"
"Oh, nothin'. I thought maybe you was chasin' after Lulie. I see hermeanderin' over this way a little while ago."
"LULIE?"
"Um-hm. Looked like her."
"Was there--was there anybody else?"
"We-ll, I wouldn't swear to that, Cap'n Jeth. I didn't SEE nobody,but--Godfreys mighty! What's that thing?"
The thing was the brown derby. Galusha, crouching behind the tomb,had been holding it fast to his head with one hand. Now, startled byPulcifer's statement that he had seen Miss Hallett, he let go his hold.And a playful gust lifted the hat from his head, whirled it like anaerial teetotum and sent it rolling and tumbling to the feet of the pairby the cemetery gate.
Jethro Hallett jumped aside.
"Good Lord! What is it?" he shouted.
"It's a--a hat, ain't it?" cried Raish.
From around the tomb hastened Mr. Bangs.
"Will you gentlemen be good enough to--to stop that hat for me?" heasked, anxiously.
The light keeper and his companion started at the apparition inspeechless astonishment.
"It's--it's my hat," explained Galusha. "If you will be kind enough topick it up before--Oh, DEAR me! There it GOES! Stop it, stop it!"
Another gust had set the hat rolling again. Captain Jethro made a grabat it but his attempt only lifted it higher into the air, where the windcaught it underneath and sent it soaring.
"Oh, dear!" piped the exasperated Galusha, and ran after it.
"Who in tunket IS he?" demanded Jethro.
Mr. Pulcifer gazed at the thin little figure hopping after the hat. Thelight of recognition dawned in his face.
"_I_ know who he is!" he exclaimed. "I fetched him over t'other nightin my car. But what in blazes is he doin' here NOW?... Hi, look out,Mister! Don't let it blow that way. If you do you'll--Head it OFF!"
The hat was following an air line due east. Galusha was following aterrestrial route in the same direction. Now Raish followed Galusha andafter him rolled Captain Jethro Hallett. As they say in hunting stories,the chase was on.
It was not a long chase, of course. It ended unexpectedly--unexpectedlyfor Galusha, that is--at a point where a spur of the pine grove juttedout upon the crest of a little hill beyond the eastern border of thecemetery. The hat rolled, bounced, dipped and soared up the hill andjust clear of the branches of the endmost pine. Then it disappeared fromsight. Its owner breathlessly panted after it. He reached the crest ofthe little hill and stopped short--stopped for the very good reason thathe could go no further.
The hill was but half a hill. Its other half, the half invisible fromthe churchyard, was a sheer sand and clay bluff dropping at a dizzyangle down to the beach a hundred and thirty feet below. This beach wasthe shore of a pretty little harbor, fed by a stream which flowed intoit from the southwest. On the opposite side of the stream was anotherstretch of beach, more sand bluffs, pines and scrub oaks. To the eastthe little harbor opened a clear channel between lines of creamingbreakers to the deep blue and green of the ocean.
Galusha Bangs saw most of this in detail upon subsequent visits. Justnow he looked first for his hat. He saw it. Below, upon the sand of thebeach, a round object bounced and rolled. As he gazed a gust whirledalong the shore and pitched the brown object into the sparkling watersof the little harbor. It splashed, floated and then sailed jauntily outupon the tide. The brown derby had started on its last voyage.
Galusha gazed down at his lost headgear. He rubbed his chinthoughtfully. Then he turned and looked back toward the hollow by thefront door of the old church. From the knoll where he stood he could seeevery inch of that hollow and it was untenanted. There was no sign ofeither human being or of a bicycle belonging to a human being.
Mr. Bangs sighed thankfully. The sacrifice of the brown derby had notbeen in vain.
Galusha the Magnificent Page 4
