“I cal'late she will,” he said, uneasily. “Tell you the truth, Ase, I was up to the store, and Cap'n Josiah Dimick and some more of 'em drifted in and we got talkin' about the chances of the harbor appropriation, and one thing or 'nother, and 'twas later'n I thought 'twas 'fore I knew it.”
The appropriation from the government, which was to deepen and widen our harbor here at Bayport, was a very vital topic among us just then. Heman Atkins, the congressman from our district, had promised to do his best for the appropriation, and had for a time been very sanguine of securing it. Recently, however, he had not been quite as hopeful.
“What's Cap'n Josiah think about the chances?” asked Asaph eagerly.
“Well, sometimes he thinks 'Yes' and then again he thinks 'No,'” replied Bailey. “He says, of course, if Heman is able to get it he will, but if he ain't able to, he—he—”
“He won't, I s'pose. Well, I can think that myself, and I don't set up to be no inspired know-it-all, like Joe Dimick. He ain't heard from Heman lately, has he?”
“No, he ain't. Neither's anybody else, so fur as I can find out.”
“Oh, yes, they have. I have, for one.”
Mr. Bangs stopped short in his double-quick march for home and dinner, and looked his companion in the face.
“Ase Tidditt!” he cried. “Do you mean to tell me you've had a letter from Heman Atkins, from Washin'ton?”
Asaph nodded portentously.