“Well?” said the president quietly.
“Well!” replied the members aghast. “Do you know what that means?”
“That we must rig her up in the hall on a pedestal, as we reckoned to do,” returned the president coolly.
“But you don't sabe,” said Clinton Grey; “that's all very well as to the hag, but now we must give HER up,” with an adoring glance towards the closet.
“Does the letter say so?”
“No,” said Trigg hesitatingly, “no! But I reckon we can't keep BOTH.”
“Why not?” said the president imperturbably, “if we paid for 'em?”
As the men only stared in reply he condescended to explain.
“Look here! I calculated all these risks after our last meeting. While you boys were just fussin' round, doin' nothing, I wrote to the express company that a box of women's damaged duds had arrived here, while we were looking for our statue; that you chaps were so riled at bein' sold by them that you dumped the whole blamed thing in the creek. But I added, if they'd let me know what the damage was, I'd send 'em a draft to cover it. After a spell of waitin' they said they'd call it square for two hundred dollars, considering our disappointment. And I sent the draft. That's spurred them up to get over our statue, I reckon. And, now that it's coming, it will set us right with the boys.”
“And SHE,” said Clinton Grey again, pointing to the locked chest, “belongs to us?”