CHAPTER VIII
Martha Phipps and her lodger, to say nothing of Lulie Hallett, werefearful of the effect which the eventful seance might have upon thelight keeper. It was with considerable foreboding that Martha calledLulie up on the telephone the next morning. But the news she receivedin answer to her call was reassuring. Captain Jethro, so Lulie said, wasapparently quite himself again, a little tired and a trifle irritable,but otherwise all right.
"The only unusual thing about him," said his daughter, "is that he hasnot once mentioned the seance or anything that happened there. Ifit wasn't too ridiculous to be possible I should almost think he hadforgotten it."
"Then for the land sakes don't remind him," urged Martha, eagerly."So long as HE is willin' not to remember you ought to be. Yes, andthankful," she added.
"I guess likely he hasn't forgotten," she said afterwards, inconversation with her lodger. "I imagine he is a good deal upset in hismind; your bouncin' in and claimin' to be the 'evil influence' put him'way off his course and he hasn't got his bearin's yet. He's probablytryin' to think his way through the fog and he won't talk till he seesa light, or thinks he sees one. I wish to goodness the light would be sostrong that he'd see through Marietta Hoag and all her foolishness, butI'm afraid that's too much to expect."
Her surmise was correct, for a few days later the captain met Galusha onthe road leading to the village and, taking the little man by the arm,became confidential.
"Mr. Bangs," he said, "I cal'late you must think it's kind of queer mynot sayin' a word to you about what happened t'other night over to thehouse."
Galusha, who had been thinking of something else and was mentallythousands of miles away--on the banks of the Nile, in fact--regarded himrather vacantly.
"Eh? Oh--um--yes, of course," he stammered. "I beg your pardon."
"No reason why you should beg my pardon. I don't blame you for thinkin'so. It's natural."
"Yes--yes, of course, of course. But I don't know that I quitecomprehend. Of what were you speaking, Captain Hallett?"
The captain explained. "Of course you think it's queer that I haven'tsaid a word about what Julia told us," he went on. "Eh? Don't you?"
"What--ah--what Miss Hoag said, you mean?"
"Plague take Marietta!" impatiently. "She wan't nothin' but thego-between. 'Twas my wife that said it. You understand 'twas Julia, mywife, talkin', don't you?"
"Why--ah--why--I suppose--"
"Suppose? Don't you KNOW 'twas?"
"Why--ah--no doubt, no doubt."
"Course there ain't any doubt. Well then, Julia said there was a darkman heavin' a sort of evil influence over Lulie."
"She said a SMALL dark man, a stranger. And she said he was presentamong us. So far as I can see I was the only small dark stranger."
"But you ain't an evil influence, are you?"
"Well, I--ah--hope not. Dear me, no!"
"I hope not, too, and I don't believe you are. No, there is some mistakesomewheres. 'Twas Nelson Howard she must have meant."
"But, Captain Hallett, Mr. Howard is not small."
"No, and he wan't there that evenin', neither. But I'm bettin' 'twas himshe meant just the same. Just the same."
"Do you think that is quite fair to Mr. Howard? If he isn't small, norvery dark, and if he was not in your house that evening, how--"
"I don't know--I don't know. Anyhow, I don't believe she meant you, Mr.Bangs. She couldn't have."
"But--ah--why not?"
"Because--well, because you couldn't be an evil influence if you tried,you wouldn't know how. THAT much I'll bet on. There, there, don't let'stalk no more about it. Julia and me'll have another talk pretty soon andthen I'll find out more, maybe."
So that was the end of this portion of the conversation. The lightkeeper positively refused to mention the subject again. Galusha was leftwith the uneasy feeling that his brilliant idea of claiming to bethe small, dark influence for evil had not been as productive of goodresults as he had hoped. Certainly it had not in the least shaken thecaptain's firm belief in his spirit messages, nor had it, apparently,greatly abated his prejudice against young Howard. On the other hand,Lulie found comfort in the fact that in all other respects her fatherseemed as rational and as keen as he had ever been. The exciting eveningwith the Hoag spook had worked no lasting harm. For so much she and herfriends were grateful.
The autumn gales blew themselves out and blew in their successors, thehowling blasts of winter. Winter at Gould's Bluffs, so Galusha Bangsdiscovered, was no light jest of the weather bureau. His first Januaryno'theaster taught him that. Lying in his bed at one o'clock in themorning, feeling that bed tremble beneath him as the wind gripped thesturdy gables of the old house, while the snow beat in hissing tumultagainst the panes, and the great breakers raved and roared at the footof the bluff--this was an experience for Galusha. The gray dawn of themorning brought another, for, although it was no longer snowing, thewind was, if anything, stronger than ever and the seaward view from hisbedroom window was a picture of frothing gray and white, of flying sprayand leaping waves, and on the landward side the pines were bending andthreshing as if they were being torn in pieces. He came downstairs,somewhat nervous and a trifle excited, to find Mr. Bloomer, garbed inoilskins and sou'wester, standing upon the mat just inside the diningroom door. Zacheus, it developed, had come over to borrow some coffee,the supply at the light having run short. As Galusha entered, a morethan usually savage blast rushed shrieking over the house, threatening,so it seemed to Mr. Bangs, to tear every shingle from the roof.
"Goodness gracious!" exclaimed Galusha. "Dear me, what a terrible stormthis is!"
Zacheus regarded him calmly. "Commenced about ten last night," heobserved. "Been breezin' on steady ever since. Be quite consider'blegale if it keeps up."
Mr. Bangs looked at him with amazement.
"If it keeps up!" he repeated. "Isn't it a gale now?"
Zach shook his head.
"Not a reg'lar gale, 'tain't," he said. "Alongside of some gales I'veseen this one ain't nothin' but a tops'l breeze. Do you remember thestorm the night the Portland was lost, Martha?"
Miss Phipps, who had come in from the kitchen with a can of coffee inher hand, shuddered.
"Indeed I do, Zacheus," she said; "don't remind me of it."
"Why, dear me, was it worse than this one?" asked Galusha.
Martha smiled. "It blew the roof off the barn here," she said, "and blewdown both chimneys on the house and both over at Cap'n Jeth's. So faras that goes we had plenty of company, for there were nineteen chimneysdown along the main road in Wellmouth. And trees--mercy! how the poortrees suffered! East Wellmouth lost thirty-two big silver-leafs andthe only two elms it had. Set out over a hundred years ago, those elmswere."
"Spray from the breakers flew clear over the top of the bank here," saidZach. "That's some h'ist for spray, hundred and odd feet. I wan't hereto see it, myself, but Cap'n Jeth told me."
"You were in a more comfortable place, I hope," observed Galusha.
"Um--we-ell, that's accordin' to what you call comf'table. I was aboardthe Hog's Back lightship, that's where I was."
"Dear, dear! Is it possible?"
"Um-hm. Possible enough that I was there, and one spell it lookedimpossible that I'd ever be anywheres else. Godfreys, what a night thatwas! Whew! Godfreys domino!"
Primmie, who had also come in from the kitchen, was listening,open-mouthed.
"I bet you that lightship pitched up and down somethin' terrible, didn'tit, Zach?" she asked.
Zacheus looked at her solemnly. "Pitched?" he repeated, after a moment'scontemplation. "No, no, she didn't pitch none."
"Didn't? Didn't pitch up and down in such a gale's that? And with wavesa hundred foot high? What kind of talk's that, Zach Bloomer! How couldthat lightship help pitchin', I'd like to know?"
Mr. Bloomer adjusted the tin cover on the can in which Martha had putthe coffee, then he put the can in the pocket of his slicker.
"We-ll, I tell you,
Primmie," he drawled. "You see, we had prettytoler'ble long anchor chains on that craft and when the captain see how'twas blowin' he let them chains out full length. The wind blowed sostrong it lifted the lightship right out of the water up to the ends ofthem chains and kept her there. Course there was a dreadful sea runnin'underneath us, but we never felt it a mite; that gale was holdin' us uptwenty foot clear of it!"
"Zacheus Bloomer, do you mean to say--"
"Um-hm. Twenty foot in the air we was all that night and part of nextday. When it slacked off and we settled down again we was leakin' like asieve; you see, while we was up there that no'thwester had blowed 'mostall the copper off the vessel's bottom. Some storm that was, Posy,some storm.... Well, so long, all hands. Much obliged for the coffee,Martha."
He tugged his sou'wester tighter on his head, glanced at Miss Cash'sface, where incredulity and indignation were written large andstruggling for expression, turned his head in Mr. Bangs' direction,winked solemnly, and departed. The wind obligingly and enthusiasticallysaved him the trouble of closing the door.
Galusha was not called upon to endure any such experiences as thosedescribed by the veracious Mr. Bloomer in his record-breaking gale, butduring that winter he learned a little of what New England coast weathercould be and often was. And he learned, also, that that weather was,like most blusterers, not nearly as savage when met squarely face toface. He learned to put on layer after layer of garments, topping offwith oilskins, sou'wester and mittens, and tramp down to the village forthe mail or to do the household errands. He was growing stronger allthe time and if the doctor could have seen him plowing through drifts orshouldering his way through a driving rain he would have realized thathis patient was certainly obeying the order to "keep out of doors."Martha Phipps was perfectly certain that her lodger was keeping out ofdoors altogether too much.
"You aren't goin' out to-day, Mr. Bangs, are you?" she exclaimed. "It'sas cold as the North Pole. You'll freeze."
Galusha smiled beneath his cap visor and between the ear-laps.
"Oh, no, indeed," he declared. "It's brisk and--ah--snappy, that's all.A smart walk will do me good. I am accustomed to walking. In Egypt Iwalk a GREAT deal."
"I don't doubt it; but you don't have much of this sort of weather inEgypt, if what I've heard is true."
Mr. Bangs' smile broadened. "I fear I shall have to admit that," hesaid; "but my--ah--physician told me that a change would be good for me.And this IS a change, now isn't it?"
"I should say it was. About as much change as a plate of ice cream aftera cup of hot coffee. Well, if you're bound to go, do keep walkin' fast.Don't forget that it's down to zero or thereabouts; don't forget thatand wander over to the old cemetery and kneel down in front of a slatetombstone and freeze to death."
"Oh, I shall be all right, Miss Phipps. Really I shall. Don't worry, Ibeg of you."
He had begged her not to worry on many other occasions and she had beenaccustomed to answer him in a manner half joking and half serious. Butthis time she did not answer at all for a moment, and when she did therewas no hint of a joke in her tone.
"No," she said, slowly. "I won't. I couldn't, I guess. Don't seem as ifI could carry any more worries just now, any more than I am carryin', Imean."
She sighed as she said it and he looked at her in troubled alarm.
"Oh, dear me!" he exclaimed. "I--I'm so sorry. Sorry that you areworried, I mean. Is there anything I can do to--to--I should be veryglad to help in any way if--"
He was hesitating, trying to say the right thing and very fearfulof saying too much, of seeming to be curious concerning her personalaffairs, when she interrupted him. She was standing by the kitchen door,with one hand upon the knob, and she spoke without looking at him.
"There is nothin' you or anybody can do," she said. "And there isn't asingle bit of use talkin' about it. Trot along and have your walk,Mr. Bangs. And don't pay any attention to what I said. It was justsilliness. I get a little nervous, sometimes, but that's no reason formy makin' other people that way. Have a good walk."
He did not have a very good walk and his thoughts while walking were notas closely centered about ancient inscriptions, either Egyptian or EastWellmouthian, as was usually the case upon such excursions. Miss MarthaPhipps was worried, she had said so, herself. Yes, and now that hethought of it, she looked worried. She was in trouble of some sort. Adreadful surmise entered his mind. Was it possible that he, his presencein her house, was the cause of her worry? He had been very insistentthat she take him as boarder and lodger. The sum he paid each weekwas ridiculously small. Was it possible that, having consented to theagreement, she had found it a losing one and was too kind-hearted andconscientious to suggest a change? He remembered agreements which he hadmade, and having made, had hesitated to break, even though they turnedout to be decidedly unprofitable and unpleasant. He had often beentalked into doing things he did not want to do, like buying the yellowcap at Beebe's store. Perhaps he had talked Miss Phipps into taking himas boarder and lodger and now she was sorry.
By the time Galusha returned from his walk he was in what might bedescribed as a state of mind.
As he entered the Phipps' gate he met some one coming down the pathtoward it. That some one, it developed, was no less a person than Mr.Horatio Pulcifer. Raish and Galusha had not encountered each other forsome time, weeks, in fact, and Mr. Bangs expected the former's greetingto be exuberant and effusive. His shoulders and his spirit were alikeshrinking in anticipation.
But Raish did not shout when he saw him, did not even shake hands, tosay nothing of thumping the little man upon the back. The broad andrubicund face of East Wellmouth's leading politician and dealer inreal estate wore not a grin but a frown, and when he and Galusha cametogether at the gate he did not speak. Galusha spoke first, which wasunusual; very few people meeting Mr. Horatio Pulcifer were afforded theopportunity of speaking first.
"Ah--good-morning, Mr. Pulcifer," said Galusha, endeavoring to open thegate.
"Huh!" grunted Raish, jerking the gate from Mr. Bangs' hand and pushingit somewhat violently into the Bangs' waistcoat. "Mornin'."
"It is a nice--ah--cool day, isn't it?" observed Galusha, backing fromthe gateway in order to give Horatio egress. Mr. Pulcifer's answer wasirrelevant and surprising.
"Say," he demanded, turning truculently upon the speaker, "ain't womenhell?"
Galusha was, naturally, somewhat startled.
"I--I beg your pardon?" he stammered.
"I say ain't women hell? Hey? Ain't they, now?"
Galusha rubbed his chin.
"Well," he said, doubtfully, "I presume in--ah--certain instancesthey--My experience has been limited, but--"
"Humph! Say, they make me sick, most of 'em. They haven't any morebusiness sense than a hen, the heft of 'em ain't. Go into a deal withtheir eyes open and then, when it don't turn out to suit 'em, lay downand squeal. Yes, sir, squeal."
"Ah--I see. Yes, yes, of course. Squeal--yes. The--the hens, you mean."
"HENS? No, women. They make me sick, I tell you.... And now a lot of dumfools are goin' to give 'em the right to vote! Gosh!"
He strode off along the road to the village. Galusha wonderingly gazedafter him, shook his head, and then moved slowly up the path to thehouse. Primmie opened the door for him. Her eyes were snapping.
"Hello, Mr. Bangs!" she said. "I 'most wisht he'd drop down dead andthen freeze to death in a snowbank, that's what I wish."
Galusha blinked.
"Why, bless my soul!" he exclaimed. "Of whom are you speaking?"
"That everlastin' Raish Pulcifer. I never did like him, and now if he'scomin' around here makin' her cry."
"Eh? Making her cry?"
"Sshh! She'll hear you. Makin' Miss Martha cry. She's up in her roomcryin' now, I'll bet you on it. And he's responsible.... Yes'm, I'mcomin'. Don't say nothin' to her that I told you, will you, Mr. Bangs?"
She hurried away in response to her mistress' hail. Galusha said nothingto Miss Phipps nor to any one
else, but during the rest of that dayhe did a great deal of thinking. Martha Phipps was worried, she wastroubled, she had been crying; according to Primmie Horatio Pulcifer wasresponsible for her tears. Galusha had never fancied Mr. Pulcifer, nowhe was conscious of a most extraordinary dislike for the man. He hadnever disliked any one so much in all his life, he was sure of that.Also he was conscious of a great desire to help Martha in her trouble.Of course there was a certain measure of relief in learning thatPulcifer and not he was responsible for that trouble, but the relief wasa small matter in comparison with the desire to help.
He could think of but one way in which Horatio Pulcifer could causeworry for Martha Phipps and that was in connection with some businessmatter. Certain fragments of conversations occurred to him, certainthings she had said to him or to Captain Hallett in his hearing whichwere of themselves sufficient to warrant the surmise that her troublewas a financial one. He remembered them now, although at the time theyhad made little impression upon his mind. But Raish Pulcifer's name wasnot mentioned in any of those conversations; Captain Jethro's had been,but not Raish's. Yet Primmie vowed that the latter had made Miss Marthacry. He determined to seek Primmie and ask for more particulars thatvery evening.
But Primmie saved him the trouble of seeking her. Miss Phipps and hermaid left him alone in the sitting room as soon as supper was over andneither came back. He could hear the murmur of voices in the kitchen,but, although he sat up until ten o'clock, neither Primmie nor hermistress joined him. So he reluctantly went up to his room, but hadscarcely reached it when a knock sounded on the door. He opened it, lampin hand.
"Why, Primmie!" he exclaimed.
Primmie waved both hands in frantic expostulation.
"Sshh! shh! shh!" she breathed. "Don't say nothin'. I don't want herto hear you. PLEASE don't let her hear you, Mr. Bangs. And PLEASE comeright downstairs again. I want to talk to you. I've GOT to talk withyou."
More bewildered than he had before been, even on that bewildering day,Galusha followed Miss Cash down the stairs, through sitting room anddining room to the kitchen. Then Primmie put down the lamp, which shehad taken from his hand, carefully closed the door behind them, turnedto her companion and burst out crying.
"Why--why, Primmie!" exclaimed Galusha. "Oh, dear me! What is it?"
Primmie did not answer. She merely waved her hands up and down and stoodthere, dripping like a wet umbrella.
"But--my soul, Primmie!" cried Mr. Bangs. "Don't! You--you mustn't, youknow."
But Primmie did, nevertheless. Galusha in desperation turned toward thedoor.
"I'm going to call Miss Phipps," he declared. Primmie, the tears stillpouring down her cheeks, seized him by the arm.
"Don't you do it!" she commanded. "Don't you dast to do it! I'll--I'llstop cryin'. I--I'm goin' to if you'll only wait and give me a chance.There! There! See, I'm--I'm stoppin' now."
And, with one tremendous sniff and a violent rub of her hand across hernose, stop she did. But she was still the complete picture of misery.
"Why, what IS the matter?" demanded Galusha.
Primmie sniffed once more, gulped, and then blurted forth theexplanation.
"She--she's canned me," she said.
Galusha looked at her uncomprehendingly. Primmie's equipment of Cape Codslang and idiom, rather full and complete of itself, had of late beenamplified and complicated by a growing acquaintance with the new driverof the grocery cart, a young man of the world who had spent two hecticyears in Brockton, where, for a portion of the time, he worked in a shoefactory. But Galusha Bangs, not being a man of the world, was not up inslang; he did not understand.
"What?" he asked.
"I say she's canned me. Miss Martha has, I mean. Oh, ain't it awful!"
"Canned you? Really, I--"
"Yes, yes, yes! Canned me, fired me. Oh, DON'T stand there owlin' atme like that! Can't you see, I--Oh, please, Mr. Bangs, excuse me fortalkin' so. I--I didn't mean to be sassy. I'm just kind of loony, Iguess. Please excuse me, Mr. Bangs."
"Yes, yes, Primmie, of course--of course. Don't cry, that's all.But what is this? Do I understand you to say that Miss Phippshas--ah--DISCHARGED you?"
"Um-hm. That's what she's done. I'm canned. And I don't know where to goand--and I don't want to go anywheres else. I want to stay here along ofher."
She burst into tears again. It was some time before Galusha could calmher sufficiently to get the story of what had happened. When told,flavored with the usual amount of Primmieisms, it amounted to this:Martha had helped her with the supper dishes and then, instead of goinginto the sitting room, had asked her to sit down as she had somethingparticular to say to her. Primmie obediently sat and her mistress didlikewise.
"But she didn't begin to say it right off," said Primmie. "She startedfour or five times afore she really got a-goin'. She said that whatshe'd got to say was dreadful unpleasant and was just as hard for her tosay as 'twould be for me to hear. And she said I could be sartin' sureshe'd never say it if 'twan't absolutely necessary and that she hadn'tmade up her mind to say it until she'd laid awake night after nighttryin' to think of some other way out, but that, try as she could, shedidn't see no other way. And so then--so then she said it. Oh, my savin'soul! I declare I never thought--"
"Hush, hush, Primmie. Ah--control yourself, please. You promised not tocry, you know."
"Cry! Well, ain't I tryin' not to cry, for mercy sakes? She was cryin',too, I tell you, afore she finished. If you'd seen the pair of ussettin' there bellerin' like a couple of young ones I cal'late you'd athought so."
"Bellowing? Miss Phipps?"
"Oh, I don't mean bellerin' out loud like a--like a heifer. I guesslikely I was doin' that, but she wan't. She was just cryin' quiet, youknow, but anybody could see how terrible bad she was feelin'. And thenshe said it--oh, dear, dear! How CAN I tell it? How CAN I?"
Galusha groaned, in harassed desperation.
"I don't know," he admitted, "But I--really I wish you would."
Miss Phipps had, it seemed, told her maidservant that, owing to thesteadily increasing cost of living, of food and clothes and every itemof daily expense, she was finding it more and more hard to get along.She said her income was very small and her bills continually growinglarger. She had cut and scrimped in every possible way, hoping againsthope, but at last she had been driven to the point where even the smallwage she was paying Primmie seemed more than she could afford. Much asshe hated to do it, she felt compelled to let the girl go.
"She said she'd help me get another place," said Primmie, "and that Icould stay here until I did get one, and all sorts of things like that.I told her I didn't want no other place and I didn't care a bit aboutthe wages. I said I'd rather work here without a cent of wages. She saidno, she wouldn't let me do that. If she couldn't pay me I couldn't workhere. I said I could and I should and she said I couldn't and shouldn't.And--and we both cried and--and that's the way it ended. And that's whyI come to you, Mr. Bangs. I CAN'T go away and leave her. I CAN'T, Mr.Bangs. She can't keep this whole house a-goin' without somebody to help.I've GOT to stay. You make her keep me, Mr. Bangs. I don't want no payfor it. I never was no hand to care for money, anyhow. Pa used to say Iwan't. None of our folks was. Matter of that, we never had none to carefor. But you make her keep me, Mr. Bangs."
She began to sob once more. Poor Galusha was very much distressed. Thecause of Martha Phipps' worry was plain enough now. And her financialstress must be very keen indeed to cause her to take such drastic actionas the discharge of Primmie the faithful.
"You'll make her keep me, won't you, Mr. Bangs?" pleaded Primmie, oncemore.
Galusha rubbed his chin. "Dear me," he said, perplexedly, "I--Well, Ishall be glad to do all I can, of course, but how I can make her keepyou when she has made up her mind not to, I--really, I don't see.You don't think, do you," he added, "that my being here is in any wayresponsible for a portion of Miss Phipps' financial trouble? You don'tthink it might be--ah--easier for her if I was to--ah--go?"
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p; Primmie shook her head. "Oh, no, no," she declared, with decision, "Youain't a mite of bother, Mr. Bangs. I've heard Miss Martha say more'n adozen times what a nice man you was and how easy 'twas to providefor you. She likes you, Miss Martha does, and I do, too. Even when wethought you was an undertaker huntin' 'round for remains we liked youjust the same."
Galusha could not help feeling a certain satisfaction in thiswhole-hearted declaration. It was pleasant to learn that he was likedand that his hostess considered him a nice man.
"Thank you, Primmie," he said. "But what I meant was--was--Well, Ipay what seems to me a ridiculously small sum for board and lodging. Ibegged to be allowed to pay more, but Miss Phipps wouldn't permit it.Now I am sure she must be losing money in the transaction and if I wereto go--ah--elsewhere perhaps it might be--ah--easier for her. Candidly,don't you think so, Primmie?"
Miss Cash appeared to consider. Then she shook her head again. "No," shesaid, "I don't. You pay your board and I've heard her say more'n oncethat she felt as if you was payin' too much. No, 'tain't that. It'smore'n that. It ain't anything to do really with you or me, Mr. Bangs.Miss Martha's lost some money somehow, I believe. She ain't got enoughto get along on, 'cause she told me she hadn't. Now, she used to haveand I believe she's lost some of it somewheres. And I believe that--"
Galusha felt it his duty to interrupt.
"Primmie," he continued, "you mustn't tell me anything which Miss Phippswouldn't wish told. I wouldn't for the world have you think that I amunduly curious concerning her personal affairs. If there is any traitwhich I--ah--detest above others it is that of unwarranted curiosityconcerning the--ah--private affairs of one's acquaintances. I... Why doyou look at me like that? Were you about to speak?"
Primmie was staring at him in what seemed to be awe-stricken admiration.She drew a long breath.
"My Lord of Isrul!" she exclaimed, fervently, "I never heard anybodystring talk along the way you can in all my born days, Mr. Bangs. I betyou've said as many as seven words already that I never heard afore,never heard ary one of 'em, I ain't. Education's wonderful, ain't it? Paused to say 'twas, but all he had he picked up off fishin' and clammin'and cranberrin' and around. All our family had a kind of picked-upeducation, seemed so."
"Yes, yes, Primmie, but--"
"But why don't I mind my own business and stick to what I was goin' tosay, you mean? All right, I will. I was goin' to say that I believe MissMartha's lost money somehow and I believe that dressed-up stuffed imageof a Raish Pulcifer is responsible for her losin' it, that's what Ibelieve."
"Mr. Pulcifer! Why, Primmie, why do you say that? What proof have you?"
"Ain't got no proof. If folks could get proof on Raish Pulcifer he'dhave been in jail long ago. Zach Bloomer said that only the other day.But a body can guess, can't they, even if they ain't got proof, andthat's what I'm doin'--guessin'. Every once in a while Miss Martha goesup to the village to see this Pulcifer thing, don't she? Yes, she does.Went up twice inside of a fortni't that I know of. Does she go 'causeshe likes him? I cal'late she don't. She likes him about the way I doand I ain't got no more use for him than a hen has for a toothbrush. Andt'other day she sent for him and asked him to come here and see her. Howdo I know she did? 'Cause she telephoned him and I heard her doin' it,that's how. And he didn't want to come and she just begged him to, saidshe would try not to bother him again if he would come that once. And hecame and after he went away she cried, same as I told you she did."
"But, Primmie, all that may be and yet Mr. Pulcifer's visit may have noconnection with Miss Martha's monetary trouble."
"I want to know! Well, if that's so, why was she and him talkin' so hardwhen he was here this afternoon? And why was she askin' him to pleasesee if he couldn't get some sort of an offer? I heard her ask that."
"Offer for what?"
"Search me! For somethin' she wanted to sell, I presume likely. And hesays to her, 'No, I can't,' he says. 'I've told you so a dozen times.If I could get anybody to buy I'd sell my own, wouldn't I? You bet yourlife I would!' And she waited a minute and then she says, kind of lowand more as if she was talkin' to herself than to him, 'What SHALL Ido?' she says. And he heard her and says he--I'd like to have choppedhis head off with the kindlin' hatchet when I heard him say it--says he,'_I_ don't know. How do you s'pose _I_ know what you'll do? I don't knowwhat I'll do, myself, do I?' And she answered right off, and kind ofsharp, 'You was sure enough what was goin' to be done when you gotfather into this thing.' And he just swore and stomped out of the house.So THAT sounds as if he had somethin' to do with it, don't it?"
Galusha was obliged to admit that it did so sound. And when heremembered Mr. Pulcifer's remark at the gate, that concerning womenand business, the evidence was still more convincing. He did not tellPrimmie that he was convinced, however. He swore her to secrecy, madeher promise that she would tell no one else what she had told him oreven that she had told him, and in return promised to do what he couldto bring about her retention in the Phipps' home.
"Although, as I said, Primmie," he added, "I'm sure I can't at presentsee what I can do."
Another person might have found little encouragement in this, butPrimmie apparently found a good deal.
"You'll see a way, I'll bet you you will, Mr. Bangs," she declared."Anybody that's been through the kind of times you have, livin' alongwith critters that steal the shirt off your back, ain't goin' to leta blowed-up gas balloon like Raish Pulcifer stump you. My savin' soul,no!"
Mr. Bangs smiled faintly.
"The shirt wasn't on my back when it was stolen," he said.
Primmie sniffed. "It didn't have no chance to be," she declared. "Thatcamel thing got it onto HIS back first. But, anyhow, I feel better. Ithink now we're goin' to come out all right, Miss Martha and me. I don'tknow why I feel so, but I do."
Galusha was by no means as confident. He went back to his room and tobed, but it was long before he fell asleep. Just why the thought ofMartha Phipps' trouble should trouble him so greatly he still didnot understand, exactly. Of course he was always sorry for any one introuble, and would have gone far out of his way to help such a person,had the latter appealed to him. But Martha had not appealed to him; as amatter of fact, it was evident that she was trying to keep knowledgeof her difficulty from him and every one else. Plainly it was not hisbusiness at all. And yet he was filled with an intense desire, even adetermination, to make it his business. He could not understand why, buthe wasted no time trying to understand. The determination to help wasstrong when at last he did fall asleep and it was just as strong when heawoke the next morning.
Galusha the Magnificent Page 8
