“Why, hello, Martha!” he grunted. “What fetched you here?”
“I asked you first, Cap'n Jeth, but it doesn't make any difference. My feet brought me as far as the corner and Ras Beebe's grocery cart brought me the rest of the way. I had planned to come in the train, but Ras saved me the trouble—AND the fare. He's goin' back in a few minutes, so I've got to hurry.”
“Humph! But what did you come here FOR?”
“Oh, I had a little business with Edgar and the bank. Excuse me, Jethro. Edgar...”
She stooped and whispered to the cashier. He nodded.
“Yes, Martha, of course,” he said. “You've got your book? All right. Back in a minute, Cap'n.”
He picked up the pile of money from the desk, took from Miss Phipps' hand the pass book she handed him, and together they stepped out into the public room. Captain Jethro, whose eyes had caught sight of the bills, leaned forward and peered through the little grating above Mr. Thacher's desk. He saw the cashier and Martha standing by the teller's window. The former said something and handed the teller the bank book and the roll of bills. A moment later the teller, having counted the money and made an entry in the book, handed the latter back to the lady.
“Five thousand,” he said, and his tone was not low. “There you are, Miss Phipps. Thank you.”
When, having escorted the lady to the door, Thacher came back to his private office, he found the light keeper sitting in the armchair reserved for customers and pulling thoughtfully at his beard.
“Well, Cap'n,” said Mr. Thacher, “what can I do for you?”