Galusha the Magnificent Part 77

"Eh?" he queried. "Oh, yes--yes, of course. How do you do, Mr.

Pulcifer?"

This placidity seemed to shut off Raish's breath for the moment, but it returned in full supply.

"How do I DO!" he repeated. "Well, I ain't what you'd call fust-rate, I'd say. I'm pretty darn sick, if anybody should ask you. I've had enough to make me sick. Say, look here, Bangs! What kind of a game is this you've been puttin' over on me--hey?... Hey?"

"Game?... I--ah--pardon me, I don't know that I quite understand, Mr.

Pulcifer."

"Don't you? Well, I don't understand neither. But I cal'late to pretty quick. What did Jeth Hallett mean last night by sayin' that he'd sold his four hundred Development a couple of months ago? What did he mean by it?"

Martha Phipps was about to speak. Cabot, too, leaned forward. But Galusha raised a protesting hand.

"Please," he said. "Mr. Pulcifer has a perfect right to ask. I have--ah--been expecting him to do so. Well, Mr. Pulcifer, I presume Captain Hallet meant that he had--ah--sold the stock."

"He did? I want to know! And what did he mean by sayin' he'd sold it to YOU?"

Again Miss Phipps and Cousin Gussie seemed about to take a hand and again Galusha silenced them.

"If you please," he begged. "It is quite all right, really.... I suppose, Mr. Pulcifer, he meant that he had done just that. He did.

I--ah--bought his stock."

"You did! YOU did? Say, what kind of a--Say, am I crazy or are you?"

"Oh, I am. Dear me, yes, Mr. Pulcifer. At all events, I purchased the stock from Captain Hallett. I bought Miss Phipps' shares at the same time."

It took more than a trifle to "stump" Raish Pulcifer. He was accustomed to boast that it did. But he had never been nearer to being stumped than at that moment.

"You--bought--" He puffed the words as a locomotive puffs smoke when leaving a station.

"Yes," said Galusha, calmly, "I bought both his and hers."

"You did!... You did!... Well, by cripes! But--but why?"

"Because, I--ah--For reasons of my own, Mr. Pulcifer. Please pardon me if I do not go into that. I do not wish to appear rude, but the reasons are quite personal, really."

"Personal!... Well, I'll be dummed if this ain't the nerviest piece of bra.s.s cheek ever I--Say, look here, Bangs! Why didn't you tell me you'd bought them shares? What did you--Why, you must have had 'em all the time I was offerin' you commissions for buyin' 'em. Hey? DID you have 'em then?"

"Why--ah--yes, I did."

"And you never said nothin', but just let me talk! And--and how about this seance thing? You was the one put me up to making Marietta pretend to get messages from Jeth's wife tellin' him to sell his stock to me.

YOU done it. I'd never thought of it if you hadn't put the notion in my head. And--and all the time--Oh, by CRIPES!"

Again his agitation brought on a fit of incoherence. And he was not the only astonished person about that table. Galusha, however, was quite calm. He continued to fold and unfold his napkin.

"It may be," he said, slowly, "that I owe you an apology, Mr. Pulcifer.

I did deceive you, or, at least, I did not undeceive you." He paused, sighed, and then added, with a twisted smile, "I seem to have been a--ah--universal deceiver, as one might say. However, that is not material just now. I had what seemed to me good reasons for wis.h.i.+ng Captain Hallett to learn that Miss Hoag was not a genuine--ah--psychic.

It occurred to me that a mention of his late wife's wish to have him sell something he did not possess might accomplish that result. I misled you, of course, and I apologize, Mr. Pulcifer. I am sorry, but it seemed necessary to do so. Yes, quite."

He ceased speaking. Martha drew a long breath. Mr. Cabot looked very much puzzled. Raish slowly shook his head. "Well!" he began; tried again, but only succeeded in repeating the word. Then he blurted out his next question.

"Who'd you buy them shares for?"

"Eh? For?"

"Yes, for. Who did you buy Cap'n Jeth's and Martha's stock for? Who got you to buy it? 'Twasn't the Trust Company crowd, was it?"

"The Trust Company? I beg pardon? Oh, I see--I see. Dear me, no. I bought the stock myself, quite on my own responsibility, Mr. Pulcifer."

Raish could not believe it. "You bought it yourself!" he repeated. "No, no, you don't get me. I mean whose money paid for it?"

"Why, my own."

Still it was plain that Horatio did not believe. As a matter of fact, the conviction that Galusha Bangs was poverty-stricken was so thoroughly implanted in the Pulcifer mind that not even a succession of earthquakes like the recent disclosures could shake it loose. But Raish did not press the point, for at that moment a new thought came to him. His expression changed and his tone changed with it.

"Say, Bangs," demanded he, eagerly, "do you mean you've still got that six hundred and fifty Development? Mean you ain't turned 'em over yet to anybody else?"

"Eh? Why, no, Mr. Pulcifer, I haven't--ah--turned them over to any one else."

"Good! Fust-rate! Fine and dandy! You and me can trade yet. You're all right, Perfessor, you are. You've kind of put one acrost on me, but don't make the mistake of thinkin' I'm holdin' that against you. No, sir-ee! When a feller's smart enough to keep even with your Uncle Raish in a deal then I know he gets up early--yes, sir, early, and that's when I get up myself. Hey, Perfessor? Haw, haw! Now, I tell you: Let's you and me go down to my office or somewheres where we can talk business.

Maybe I might want to buy that stock yet, you can't tell. Hey? Haw, haw!"

He was exuding geniality now. But just here Mr. Augustus Cabot spoke.

Judging by his face, he had enjoyed the pa.s.sage at arms between his cousin and his business agent hugely. Now he entered the lists.

"That's all right, Pulcifer," he said. "You needn't trouble. I'll look out for that stock, myself."

Horatio turned and stared. He had scarcely noticed the visitor before, now he looked him over from head to foot.

"Hey? What's that?" he demanded. Cabot repeated his statement. Raish snorted.

"You'll look after the stock!" he repeated. "YOU will? Who are you?"

Cousin Gussie tossed a card across the table. "Cabot is my name," he said.

Galusha suddenly remembered.

"Oh, dear me!" he exclaimed. "I--I forgot. Please forgive me.

Cousin Gussie, this is Mr. Pulcifer. Mr. Pulcifer, this gentleman is my--ah--Cousin Gu--I mean my cousin, Mr. Cabot, from Boston."

But Mr. Pulcifer did not hear. He was staring at the names of the individual and of the firm upon the card and icy fingers were playing tunes up and down his vertebrae. For the second time that morning he could not speak. Cabot laughed.

"It's all right, Pulcifer," he said, rea.s.suringly. "You won't have to worry about the Development matter any longer. I'll handle the rest of it. Oh, you did your best. I'm not blaming you. I'll see that you get a fair return, even if you couldn't quite deliver. But you must keep still about the whole thing, of course."

Raish breathed heavily. Slowly the icy fingers ceased trifling with his spine and that backbone began to develop--quoting Miss Phipps'

description--at least one new joint to every foot. He suppled visibly.

He expressed himself with feeling. He begged the honor of shaking hands with the great man from Boston. Then he shook hands with Galusha and Miss Phipps. If Primmie had been present doubtless he would have shaken hands with her. When Cabot suggested that the interview had best terminate, he agreed with unction and oozed, rather than walked, through that doorway. Watching from the window, they saw him stop when he reached the road, draw a long breath, take a cigar from his pocket, light it, hitch his cap a trifle to one side, and stride away, a moving picture of still unshaken and serene self-confidence.

Cabot laughed delightedly. "That fellow is a joy forever," he declared.