Galusha the Magnificent Part 59

"But," said Martha, ending the conversation for the time, "why do you suppose Raish is buyin' at all? What is goin' on, anyway?"

She was by no means the only one who was asking that question. Three days later Captain Jethro asked Galusha the same thing. They met in the lane leading to the village and the light keeper approached the subject without preamble.

"Say, Mr. Bangs," he demanded, "what's Raish Pulcifer cal'late he's doin'?"

Galusha smiled. "I thank you for the compliment, Captain Hallett," he said, "but my intuition cannot keep pace with Mr.

Pulcifer's--ah--calculations. No, indeed."

Jethro pulled his beard. "I asked you," he said, solemnly, "what Raish Pulcifer cal'lated he was doin' buyin' up Development stock? Do you know?"

"No. Is he buying it?"

"If you ain't heard that he is, you're about the only one in East Wellmouth. Ain't you heard it?"

Galusha would have liked to change the subject, but with Jethro Hallett that was not an easy task, as he knew from experience. He did not immediately make the attempt.

"Why--ah--yes," he admitted. "I have heard that he has bought--ah--some."

"Um-hm. Who told you; Martha?"

"Why--why--really, Captain, I don't know that I ought--You'll pardon me, but--"

"Been tryin' to buy Martha's, has he?"

Galusha sighed. "Have you noticed," he suggested, "what a remarkable view one gets from this point? The village and the bay in front, and, in the rear, the--ah--light and the--ah--rest. Quite remarkable, don't you think so, Captain?"

Captain Jethro looked gravely at the view.

"Raish been to see Martha about buyin' her stock, has he?" he asked.

Galusha rubbed his chin. "I have often wondered," he said, "why no summer cottage has been built just here. The spot would seem to possess very marked advantages. Very--ah--very much so."

The light keeper cleared his throat. "Zach said he see Raish comin' out of your gate t'other day," he said. "Been to see Martha about her shares then, had he?"

"The--ah--proximity to the main road is an advantage in particular,"

Galusha continued. "One would be near it and yet, so to speak, secluded from it. Really, a very exceptional spot, Captain Hallett."

Captain Jethro stroked his beard, frowned, and gazed steadily at the face of the little archaeologist. Galusha gazed serenely and with a pleased interest at the view. After a moment the light keeper said: "He's been after mine, too."

"Eh?... Oh, indeed? You mean--"

"I mean Raish Pulcifer's been tryin' to buy my Development stock same as he has Martha's. Hey? What say?"

"I said nothing, Captain. Not a word, really"

"Humph!... Well, he's been tryin' to buy mine, anyway. And, nigh's as I can find out, he's bought every loose share there is. All hands are talkin' about it now; some of 'em are wonderin' if they hadn't better have hung on. Eben Snow came to me this mornin' and he says, 'I don't know whether I did right to let go of that stock of mine or not,' he says. 'What do you think, Jeth?' I haven't got much use for Eben, and ain't had for years; I went to sea with him one v'yage and that generally tells a man's story. I've seen him at church sociables--in the days when I wasted my time goin' to such things--spend as much as five minutes decidin' whether to take a doughnut or a piece of pie. He couldn't eat both, but he was afraid whichever he took the other might turn out to be better. So when he asked me my opinion about his sellin'

his Development, I gave it to him. 'You've been wantin' to sell, ain't you?' says I. 'I've heard you whinin' around for months because you couldn't sell. Now you HAVE sold. What more do you want?' He got mad.

'You ain't sold YOUR holdin's at any fourteen dollars a share, have you?' he says. I told him I hadn't. 'No, and I'll bet you won't, either,' says he. I told him he'd make money if he could get somebody to take the bet. Humph! the swab!"

For the first time Galusha asked a direct question.

"Did--ah--Mr. Pulcifer actually--ah--bid for your Development shares, Captain Hallett?" he inquired.

"Oh, he come as nigh to doin' it as I'd let him. Hinted maybe that he'd give me as much as he did Snow, fourteen fifty. I laughed at him.

I asked him what made him so reckless, when, the last time he and I talked, he was tryin' to sell me his own shares for ten. And now he wanted to buy mine at fourteen and a half!"

"And--ah--what reason did he give for his change of heart? Or didn't he give any?"

"Humph! Yes, he gave a shipload of reasons, but there wouldn't any one of 'em float if 'twas hove overboard. He ain't buyin' on his own account, that I KNOW."

"Oh--ah--do you, indeed. May I ask why you are so certain?"

"For two reasons. First, because Raish ain't got money enough of his own to do any such thing. Second, and the main reason why I know he ain't buyin' for himself is because he says he is. Anybody that knows Raish knows that's reason enough."

Galusha ventured one more question.

"When he--ah--approached you, did you--that is, what excuse did you give him for--for your lack of interest, so to speak?"

"Hey? I didn't give him any. And I didn't tell him I wasn't interested.

I am interested--to see how far he'll go. I sha'n't tell him I've sold already, Mr. Bangs; your Boston friends needn't worry about that. When I sign articles I stick to my contract."

They had reached the Phipps' gate by this time and there they parted.

The light keeper strode off, rolling heavily, his beard blowing across his shoulder. He had been, for him, remarkably good-humored and talkative. Galusha was inclined to attribute the good humor to the fact that Captain Jethro considered he had made a good bargain in selling his own shares at a price so much higher than that obtained by Snow and the rest. The next time they conversed the good humor was not as apparent.

But that occasion was almost a fortnight later.

And, meantime, Mr. Pulcifer had become the center of interest in East Wellmouth and its neighborhood. An important figure he always was, particularly in his own estimation, but now the spotlight of publicity which beat upon his ample figure had in its rays the blue tinge of mystery. The question which all Wellmouth was asking was that which Captain Jethro had asked Mr. Bangs: "What is Raish up to now?"

And Mr. Pulcifer firmly refused to answer that question. Or, to be more exact, he always answered it, but the answers were not considered convincing. Some pretended to be satisfied with his offhand declaration that he "had a little chunk of the stock and just presumed likely I might as well have a little more. Ain't nothin' to make a fuss about, anyhow." A few pretended to accept this explanation as bona fide, but the remainder, the majority, received it with open incredulity.

The oddest part of it all was the fact that the great Horatio appeared to dislike the prominent position which his activities held in the community mind. Ordinarily prominence had been the delight of his soul.

In every political campaign, wherever the limelight shone brightest there had strutted Mr. Pulcifer, cigar in mouth, hat over one eye, serene self-satisfaction in the possession of mysterious knowledge radiating from his person. He loved that sort of thing; to be the possessor of "inside information," however slight, or even to be popularly supposed to possess it, had hitherto been the meat upon which this, Wellmouth's, Caesar, fed and grew great.

But Raish was not enjoying this particular meal. And his att.i.tude was not pretense, either; it was obvious that the more East Wellmouth discussed his buying the Development stock the less he liked it. When his fellow townsmen questioned him he grew peevish.

"Oh, forget it!" he exclaimed to one of the unfortunate who came seeking information. "You make me tired, Jim Fletcher, you and Ras Beebe and the whole gang. By cripes, a feller can't as much as take a five cent cigar out of his pocket without all hands tryin' to make a--a molehill out of it. Forget it, I tell you!"

Mr. Fletcher was a simple soul, decidedly not one of East Wellmouth's intellectual aristocracy, but he was persistent.

"Aw, hold on, Raish," he expostulated, "I never said a word about your takin' a five cent cigar out of your pocket.... Er--er--you ain't taken one out, have you?"

"No, and I ain't goin' to--not now."

"All right--all right. _I_ never asked you. All I said was--"

"I know what you said."

"Why, no, you don't neither. You're all mixed up. n.o.body's said anything about cigars, or makin'--er--er--What was it you said they made?"

"Oh, nothin', nothin'. A molehill is what I said."