Part 42 (2/2)
Tamson, plainly disappointed at his lack of curiosity, elevated her thin nose.
”Well,” she observed, ”what he SAID was that, fur's things bein' here was concerned, Christmas would be here, give it time enough. Pretty sa.s.sy kind of talk, _I_ call it, but maybe you ain't so partic'lar, Mr.
Bangs.”
”Dear me! Of course. Well, well!... Oh, were there any letters for--ah--for me, may I ask?”
”Why, yes, there was, two of 'em. That's what made me cal'late you might like to get 'em first yourself. I knew you didn't get letters very often, Mr. Bangs; that is, I've noticed you ain't since I've been helpin' in this office. Anyhow, 'most anybody would rather get their own mail private than have Zach Bloomer cartin' it from land-knows-where to never-and-gone, smellin' it all up with old tobacco pipes and fish or whatever else he carries 'round in his pockets. Course I don't mean he lugs fish around in his pocket, 'tain't likely--He, he, he--but that old coat of his always smells like a--like a porgie boat. And I don't know's I mean that those letters of yours were any more 'special private than common; anyhow, both envelopes was in MALE handwritin'--He, he, he! But I noticed one was stamped from way out in--in Nevada, seems if 'twas, so--”
”Eh?” Galusha came to life with astonis.h.i.+ng quickness. ”From--from Nevada, did you say?”
”Um-hm. I remember it real plain now. You see, it kind of caught my eye as I was sortin.' We don't never get much mail from Nevada--not in this office we don't never hardly. So when I see... Well, my good land!”
The exclamation was caused by the unceremonious suddenness of Mr. Bangs'
exit. He was well across the road by the time Miss Black reached the window.
”My good land!” exclaimed Tamson again. Later she told her brother-in-law that she cal'lated that Nevada letter was maybe more private than she cal'lated first, and that she bet you she was goin' to look pretty hard at the handwritin' on the NEXT one that come.
Primmie, apparently, had been watching through the kitchen window for Galusha to appear. At any rate, she opened the door for him. Her mouth opened also, but he, for perhaps the first time in their acquaintances.h.i.+p, spoke first.
”I know--I know, Primmie,” he said, hastily; ”or if I don't know you can tell me later on. Ah--please don't delay me now.”
Primmie was struggling between surprise and disappointment.
”Well,” she observed, as the little man hurriedly shed his hat and coat; ”well, all right, Mr. Bangs. Only Zach, he told me to be sure and tell you, and tell you how sorry he was that it happened, and that he can't exactly figger out just how it did come to happen, neither.”
”Eh?” Galusha paused, with one arm still in the sleeve of his overcoat.
”Happen? What has happened to--ah--Mr. Bloomer?”
”Ain't nothin' happened to him. 'Twas him that made it happen to your letter. And THAT letter of all letters! You see, Zach he don't exactly remember when 'twas he got it from the post office, but it must have been much as a week ago, sartin sure. Anyhow, when he took out the lighthouse mail he left this letter in the pocket, and to-day, just now, when he got them other letters of yours and put 'em in the same pocket, he found the first one. And when I see that 'Cabot, What-d'ye-call-it and Cabot' name printed out right on the envelope and it come over me that 'twas THAT letter he'd forgot and had been totin' 'round with him, 'WELL,' says I. 'My Lord of Isrul!' I says--”
”Primmie! Primmie, stop! Stop--please! And tell me: Where are those letters?”
”Hey? I was goin' to tell you. _I_ put 'em right here on the dinin' room table, but Miss Martha she carted 'em off upstairs to your bedroom. Said she presumed likely you'd want to open 'em by yourself. _I_ don't see why--”
”Hus.h.!.+ Hus.h.!.+ Where is--ah--Miss Phipps?”
”She's in the settin' room. Told me not to disturb her, she wanted to be alone. I--”
Galusha hastened away, leaving the excited Miss Cash still talking. From the foot of the stairs he caught a glimpse of Martha in the chair by the front window of the sitting room, looking out. She must have heard him, but she did not turn her head. Nor did he speak to her. Time enough for that when he had read what was in those letters.
There they were, three of them, upon his bureau. He picked up the one on top. It bore upon the envelope the words ”National Inst.i.tute, Was.h.i.+ngton, D. C.,” and was, he knew, merely a monthly report. Usually such reports were of great interest to him; this one was not. He had really important matters to claim his attention.
The second letter was, obviously, that which the forgetful Zacheus had carried about with him for a week. In the corner was the Cabot, Bancroft and Cabot name. He tore it open. An oblong slip of paper fell to the floor. He did not even stoop to pick this up, for there was a letter, too. It began:
”Prof. Galusha Bangs, East Wellmouth, Ma.s.s.
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