And he'd go higher, too. HOW far he'll go I don't know, but I
cal'late I'll keep him stringin' along till I find out."
He pulled at his beard for a moment and then added:
"It's plain enough, of course, that Raish is agent for somebody that
wants to buy in that stock. Who 'tis, though, I can't guess. It ain't
your Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot crowd, Mr. Bangs. That's plain enough,
too."
Galusha tried to look innocently interested.
"Oh--ah--yes," he said. "Is it?"
"Sartin 'tis. THEY wouldn't need to be sendin' anybody to buy my shares,
would they? They've bought 'em already. The whole thing is queer. Look
here! Why should anybody be chasin' ME for those shares? Why don't they
get a list of stockholders from the books? Those transfer books ought to
show that I've sold, hadn't they? They would, too, if any transfer had
been made. There ain't been any made, that's all the answer I can think
of. I signed those certificates of mine in blank, transferred 'em in
blank on the back. And somebody--whoever 'twas bought 'em--ain't turned
'em in for new ones in their own name, but have left 'em just the way
they got 'em. That's why Raish and his crowd think I've still got my
stock. Now ain't that funny, Mr. Bangs? Ain't that strange?"
It was not at all funny to Galusha. Nor strange. The light keeper tugged
at his beard and his shaggy brows drew together.
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