“Well, all right, Cap'n Jeth,” she said. “It wasn't what you said so much as it was how you said it. Now will you tell me why you're so dreadfully anxious to know how I got that five thousand dollars I deposited over to the bank yesterday?”
The light keeper pulled at his beard; the latter was so thick as to make a handful, even for one of his hands. “Well,” he said, somewhat apologetically, “you see, Martha, it's like this: IF you sold them Development shares of yours—and I swan I can't think of anything else you own that would sell for just that money—IF you sold 'em, I say, I'd like to know how you done it. I've got four hundred shares of that stock I'd like to sell fust-rate—fust-rate I would.”
She had not entirely forgiven him for his intrusion in her affairs and his manner of the moment before. She could not resist giving him a dig.
“Cap'n Jeth,” she said, “I don't see why you need to worry. I've heard you say a good many times that you had promises from—well, from the spirits that you were goin' to sell your Development stock and at a profit. All you had to do, you said, was wait. Now, you see, I couldn't wait.”
The captain nodded in satisfaction. “So 'TWAS the Development you sold,” he growled. “I figgered out it couldn't be nothin' else.”
Martha scarcely knew whether to frown or laugh. Some of her pity concerning the old man's mental state had been, obviously, unnecessary. He was still sharp enough in business matters.
“Well,” she said, with both laugh and frown, “suppose it was, what of it?”
“Why, just this, Martha: If there's anything goin' on on the inside of the Development Company I want to know it.”
“There isn't anything goin' on so far as I know.”
“Then who bought your stock? The Denboro Trust Company folks?”