He led the way to a section of the rail fence which, although rickety, was still standing. He seated himself upon the upper rail and Galusha clambered up and perched beside him. The banker's first question was concerning the six hundred and fifty shares of Development stock. “I know you gave the Phipps woman par for hers,” he said. “You told me so and so did she. Did you pay old Whiskers--Hallett, I mean--the same price?” Galusha shook his head. “I--ah--was obliged to pay him a little more,” he said. “His--ah--wife insisted upon it.” “His wife? I thought his wife was dead.” “Yes--ah--she is. Yes, indeed, quite so.” When this matter was satisfactorily explained Cousin Gussie asked if Galusha would be willing to sell his recently purchased shares at the price paid. Of course Galusha would. “I should be very glad to make you a present of them, Cousin Gussie,” he said, listlessly. “I do not care for them, really.” “I don't doubt that, but you won't do anything of the kind. As a matter of fact, your buying those shares and taking them out of the market was a mighty good thing for us. That Trust Company crowd was getting anxious, so the Phipps woman says. By the way, I will send her a check at once for her shares and she will hand it over to you. She was very much disturbed because you had--as she called it--given her that five thousand dollars.” Galusha nodded sadly. “Of course,” he said. “It was a--a very dreadful thing to do. Oh, dear!” His relative, who was watching him intently, smiled. “She and I have had a long talk,” he continued. “She couldn't understand about you, how you could have so much money to--er--waste in that way. I gathered she feared you might have impoverished yourself, or pledged the family jewels, or something. And she plainly will not be easy one moment until she has paid you. She is a very extraordinary woman, Loosh.” His companion did not answer. His gaze was fixed upon a winged death's head on a battered slate gravestone near at hand. The death's head was grinning cheerfully, but Galusha was not. “I say she is remarkable, that Phipps woman,” repeated Cousin Gussie. The little man stirred uneasily upon the fence rail. “Her--ah--name is Martha--Martha Phipps--ah--MISS Martha Phipps,” he suggested, with a slight accent upon the “Miss.” The banker's smile broadened. “Apologies, Galusha,” he said, “to her--and to you.” He turned and gazed steadily down at his relative's bowed head. “Loosh,” he said. “Eh?” Galusha looked up. “Eh? Did you speak?” he asked. “I did. No, don't look at that gravestone, look at me. Say, Loosh, why did you do it?” “Eh?... I beg pardon.... Why did I... You mean why did I--ah--buy the stock--and--and--”