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Lincoln, Joseph Crosby, 1870-1944

"Galusha the Magnificent"

Cabot, himself?"
He had been expecting this and was prepared for it. He had rehearsed
his answer many times before coming downstairs. He held up a protesting
hand.
"I am very sorry," he said, "but--but, you see, that is a--ah--secret,
I understand. Of course, they did not write me who was to buy the stock
and so--and so--"
"And so you don't know. Well, it doesn't make a bit of difference,
really. The Lord knows I shouldn't care so long as I sell it honestly
and don't cheat anybody. And a big house like Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot
ought to know what they're doin' when they buy, or let any of their
customers buy. I'll get the certificate this very minute, Mr. Bangs."
She hastened up the stairs. Galusha wiped his forehead and breathed
heavily. There was a knock on the door leading to the dining room; it
opened and Primmie's head appeared.
"I heard her go upstairs," she whispered, hoarsely. "Is it all right,
Mr. Bangs? Was there good news in that What-you-call-it-Bancroft letter,
Mr. Bangs? Was there?"
"Go away, Primmie! Go AWAY!"
"I'm a-goin'. But was there?"
"Yes--ah--no--I--I guess so."
"Lord everlastin' of Isrul! My savin' soul!"
Martha's footsteps on the stairs caused the head to disappear and the
door to close. Miss Phipps appeared, her hand clasping a highly ornate
document.
"Here's the certificate," she said, breathlessly.


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