You tell her I don't want to buy 'em and I don't know
anybody that does. Yes, and you tell her that if I did know anybody that
was fool enough to bid one dollar of real money for 'em I'd sell him
mine and be darn glad of the chance. And say, you tell her not to bother
me no more. She took her chance same as the rest of us, and if she don't
like it she can go--Eh? What is it?"
His caller had risen, rather suddenly for him, and was standing beside
the desk. There was a peculiar expression on his thin face.
"What's the matter?" demanded Mr. Pulcifer. Galusha's gaze was very
direct.
"I wouldn't say that," he said, quietly.
"Eh? Say what? I was just goin' to say that if Martha Phipps didn't like
waitin' same as the rest of us she--"
"Yes, yes," hastily, "I know. But I shouldn't say it, if I were you."
"You wouldn't. Why not, for thunder sakes?"
"Because--well, I am sure you were speaking hastily--without thinking."
"Is that so? How do YOU know I wasn't thinkin'?"
"Because I am sure no one who had stopped to think would send that sort
of message to a lady."
"Humph!... Well, I swear!... Wouldn't send--I want to know!"
"Yes--ah--and now you do know. Good-day, Mr. Pulcifer."
He was at the door when the surprised and, to tell the truth, somewhat
disconcerted Horatio called after him.
"Here! Hold on, Perfessor," he hailed; "don't go off mad.
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