Martha sighed. “Some of the rest of us would like to dodge it, too,” she
said, “if we only could. And yet--” she paused and regarded him with the
odd expression she had worn more than once when he puzzled her--“and yet
I--I just can't make you out, Mr. Bangs. You say you don't know anything
about money and managin' money, and yet those Egypt trips of yours must
cost a lot of money. And somebody must manage them. SOMEBODY must 'tend
to payin' the bills and the wages and all. Who does that?”
Galusha smiled. “Why, I do,” he admitted, “after a fashion. But it is a
very poor fashion. I almost never--I think I may safely say never come
in from one of those trips without having exceeded the--ah--estimate of
expenses. I always exceed it more or less--generally more.”
He smiled again. She looked more puzzled than ever.
“But some one has to pay the extra, don't they?” she asked. “Who does
pay it, the museum people?”
“Why--ah--no, not exactly. It is--ah--ah--generally provided. But,” he
added, rather hastily, as if afraid she might ask more questions along
this line, “if I might make a suggestion, Miss Martha--Miss Phipps, I
mean--”
“Plain Martha will do well enough. I think you're the only one in
East Wellmouth that calls me anything else. Of course you can make a
suggestion. Go ahead.”
“Well--ah--well, Miss Phipps--ah--Miss Martha, since you permit me to
call you so.... What is it?”
“Oh, nothin', nothin'. I was goin' to say that the 'Miss' wasn't
necessary, but never mind. Go on.”
“Well--ah--Mar--ah--Miss Martha, I was about to suggest that you tell me
what you intended telling me. I am very anxious to help--ah--even if I
can't, you know. Only I beg of you not to think I am actuated by idle
curiosity.”
She shrugged her shoulders.
“Even if you were I don't know that I shouldn't want to tell you, just
the same,” she observed. “The fact is I've just GOT to talk this over
with some one. Mr. Bangs, I am so worried I don't know what to do. It is
a money matter, of course, that's worryin' me, an investment father made
a little while before he died. Mr. Bangs, I don't suppose it's likely
that you ever heard of the Wellmouth Development Company? No, of course
you haven't.”
And yet, as she looked into her lodger's face, she was surprised at its
expression.
“Why, you never have heard of it, have you?” she demanded.
Galusha stroked his chin. “That day in the cemetery,” he murmured. “That
day when I was--ah--behind the tomb and heard Captain Hallett and Mr.
Pulcifer speaking. I may be mistaken, but it seems to me that they
mentioned the name of--ah--ah--”
“The Development Company? Of course they did and you told me so when you
got home. I remember now. Well, Cap'n Jeth and Raish were both mixed up
in it along with father. Yes, and Doctor Powers and a lot more, though
not so much. Raish, of course, was at the back of it in the beginnin'.
He got 'em all in it, got himself into it, as far as that goes. You see,
it was this way.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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