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"What do you mean?" she demanded. "What was it that struck you?"
"Why, Cousin Gussie," announced Galusha, happily. "Don't you see? He will be EXACTLY the one."
CHAPTER X
When, at last--and it took some time--Martha Phipps was actually convinced that her lodger's "Cousin Gussie" was no less a person than the senior partner of the famous banking firm of Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot, she was almost as excited as he.
"Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot," she repeated. "Why, everybody knows about them! They are the biggest bankers in New England. I have heard father say so ever so many times. And this Mr. Cabot, is he really your cousin?"
Galusha nodded. "Oh, yes," he said. "He is my cousin--really he is. I have always called him Cousin Gussie; that is," he added, "except when I worked for him, of course. Then he didn't like to have me."
"Worked for him?"
"Yes, in his office, in the--ah--banking house, you know."
"Do you mean to say you used to work for Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot? Were you a banker?"
Galusha shook his head. "No," he said. "Dear me, no! But once I tried to be."
"Oh! And you gave it up?"
"_I_ was given up--as a bad job. If you don't mind," he added, apologetically, "I'd rather not talk about that. I've gotten over it a long while ago, or I thought I had, but for a time I--I felt very badly--ah--ungrateful, you know."
Martha didn't know, nor did she in the least understand, but she did not, of course, press the subject.
"Why, I can hardly believe it," she said. "That about your bein' that Mr. Cabot's cousin, I mean. But of course I do believe it, if you say so, Mr. Bangs. And you think he would tell me what to do with this Development stock of mine, whether it is worth anything or not? He would know, if anybody did, that's a fact."
Galusha nodded a.s.sent.
"He knows all about everything," he declared; "everything of that kind, I mean. He is used to making all sorts of--ah--investments for people, and taking care of their money, and all that sort of thing. Why," he added, as a final clincher, "he takes care of all my money, really, he does."
Miss Phipps laughed.
"And that I suppose is enough to keep one man busy," she observed.
Galusha was too much in earnest to notice the sarcasm.
"I'm sure it must be," he said. "I never could do it myself."
"I can believe that without any trouble. Now what is your idea, Mr.
Bangs; to write to your cousin, tell him everything I've told you, and then ask his advice? Is that it?"
That was not exactly it, apparently. Galusha thought that perhaps he might go to Boston forthwith, on the very next train, and consult Cousin Gussie in person. But Martha did not think this advisable.
"I certainly shouldn't put you to all that trouble," she said. "No, I shouldn't, so please don't let's waste time arguin' about it. And, besides, I think a letter would be a great deal better."
Galusha said that a letter was so slow.
"Maybe so, but it is sure. Truly now, Mr. Bangs, do you believe if you went to your cousin that you could tell him this Development Company yarn without gettin' it all tangled up? I doubt if you could."
He reflected for a moment, and then ruefully shook his head.
"I'm afraid you are right," he admitted. "I presume I could learn it--ah--by rote, perhaps, but I doubt if ever I could understand it thoroughly."
"Well, never mind. My plan would be to have you write your cousin a letter givin' him all the particulars. I'll help you write the letter, if you'll let me. And we'll ask him to write right back and tell us two things: Number One--Is the Development stock worth anything, and what?
Number Two--If it is worth anything, can he sell it for that? What do you think of that idea?"
Naturally, Galusha thought it a wonderful idea. He was very enthusiastic about it.
"Why, Miss Phipps--Miss Martha, I mean," he declared, "I really think we--ah--may consider your troubles almost at an end. I shouldn't be in the least surprised if Cousin Gussie bought that stock of yours himself."
Martha smiled, faintly. "I should," she said, "be very much surprised.
But perhaps he may know some one who will buy it at some price or other. And, no matter whether they do or not, I am ever and ever so much obliged to you, Mr. Bangs, for all your patience and sympathy."
And, in spite of her professed pessimism she could not help feeling a bit more hopeful, even sharing a bit of her lodger's confidence. And so when Primmie, in tears, came again that afternoon to beg to be retained in service, Martha consented to try to maintain the present arrangement for a few weeks more, at least.
"Although the dear land knows I shouldn't, Primmie," she said. "It's just postponin' what is almost sure to come, and that isn't right for either of us."
Primmie's grin extended from ear to ear.
"You bet you it's right for one of us, Miss Martha," she declared.
"And you ain't the one, neither. My Lord of Isrul, if I don't feel some better'n I did when I come into this room! Whew! My savin' soul! Zach Bloomer he says to me this mornin'. 'What's the matter, Posy?' he says.
'Seems to me you look sort of wilted lately. You better brace up,' he says, 'or folks'll be callin' you a faded flower.' 'Well,' says I, 'I may be faded, but there's one old p'ison ivy around here that's fresh enough to make up.' Oh, I squashed HIM all righty, but I never took no comfort out of doin' it. I ain't took no comfort for the last two, three days. But now--Whew!"
The letter to Cousin Gussie was written that very afternoon. Mr. Bangs wrote it, with helpful suggestions, many of them, from Miss Phipps. At Martha's suggestion the envelope was marked "Personal."
"I suppose it is foolish of me," she said, "but somehow I hate to have my affairs talked all over that office. Even when I was a little girl, and things went wrong in school, I used to save up my cryin' until I got home. I'm the same now. This Development Company milk is spilled, and, whether any of it can be saved or not, there is no use callin' a crowd to look at the puddle. If your cousin thinks it's necessary to tell other Boston folks, I presume he will, but WE won't tell anybody but him."
Galusha hoped to receive an answer the following day, but none came. Nor did it come the next day, nor the next. That week pa.s.sed and no reply came from Cousin Gussie. Galusha began to worry a little, but Miss Phipps did not.
"Perhaps he's away for a day or two, sick or somethin'," she suggested.
"Perhaps he's lookin' up some facts about the Development Company.
Perhaps he hasn't had time to read the letter at all yet. Mercy me, you mustn't expect as busy a man as the head of Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot to drop everything else and run around in circles attendin' to my little two-for-a-cent business!"
The relative of the great man admitted that there was reason in this line of argument, but he was impatient, nevertheless. His daily walks now included trips to the post office. On one of those trips he caught a glimpse of Mr. Pulcifer's hemispherical countenance through its wearer's office window, and, on the spur of the moment's impulse, went in.
Horatio, who was smoking his customary cigar, reading a political circular and humming "Beautiful Lady" all at the same time, looked up from the reading and greeted him boisterously.
"Well, well, well!" exclaimed Raish. "If it ain't the Perfessor again! Welcome to amongst our midst, as the feller said. Have a chair, Perfessor. How's things in the graveyard these days? Kind of dead around there, eh? Haw, haw, haw!"
He enjoyed his joke and laugh and Galusha smiled because he felt that politeness required it. When the laugh and smile had run their course, he endeavored to come to the point.
"Mr. Pulcifer," he said, "I--if you are not too greatly occupied I should like to ask--ah--a business question. Ah--may I?"
He most a.s.suredly could. In fact, he was urged to ask it then and there.