CHAPTER VIII
CERTAIN PLOTS
Three good fairies had their heads together. One was an astute banker with a mouth delinquent borrowers hated to see, one was a woman who was known to be wise and one was a dinky little man with red whiskers.
"The question before the house," said Jim Blaisdell, "is, are we justified in playing politics to bolster up a young man we're afraid can't stand on his merits? I don't fancy pulling wires—in church matters, that is."
"The question," said Mrs. Jim, "is no such a thing. It is, whether we're to let that insufferable Dick Holden give us another St. Christopher's?"
"Or to help make a strong fruitful life?" amended Jonathan.
"I can't quite see Davy as strong," said Jim, "though he is paying his debts. But Dick certainly is getting to be a conceited duffer. The ayes," he sighed, "seem to have it. The next question is ways and means. Old Bixby's method in St. X looks good to me. A conditional contribution—what do you say?"
"How much?" inquired the practical Mrs. Jim.
Jim took out an envelope, did sums in subtraction and division and held out the result to his wife. She took it from him, did a sum herself—in multiplication—and exhibited that result to him.
"Woman," he cried, "would you rob me? I'm no Standard Oil."