"
Martha burst out laughing. "It is 'ransomed,' Primmie," she said. "But
if you're figurin' on playin' that thing over at the seance, I'm afraid
you'll be disappointed. Cap'n Jethro has had the old melodeon repaired,
I believe. And, so far as I've heard, you haven't been asked to come,
have you?"
Primmie became a statue of despair.
"Oh, Miss Martha," she pleaded, "CAN'T I go? Can't I please go? You're
goin' and so's Mr. Bangs, and--and I do like 'em so, those spirit
meetin's. They scare me 'most to death and I just love 'em. PLEASE can't
I go, Miss Martha?"
Martha took pity on her. "Well, all right, Primmie," she said. "Go, if
you want to. I don't believe Jethro will care. And," with a shrug, "I
don't know as another idiot, more or less, added to the rest of us, will
make much difference."
Saturday, the eventful day, or the day of the eventful evening, was fine
and clear. At noon an unexpected event, the first of several, occurred;
Zacheus, bringing the mail from the post office, brought a large and
heavy letter addressed to Galusha Bangs, Esq., and stamped in the upper
left-hand corner with the name of the National Institute of Washington.
Galusha opened it in his room alone. It was the "plan," the long-ago
announced and long-expected plan in all its details. An expedition was
to be fitted out, more completely and more elaborately than any yet
equipped by the Institute, and was to go to the Nile basin for extended
and careful research lasting two years at least.
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