“How do I DO!” he repeated. “Well, I ain't what you'd call fust-rate, I'd say. I'm pretty darn sick, if anybody should ask you. I've had enough to make me sick. Say, look here, Bangs! What kind of a game is this you've been puttin' over on me—hey?... Hey?”
“Game?... I—ah—pardon me, I don't know that I quite understand, Mr. Pulcifer.”
“Don't you? Well, I don't understand neither. But I cal'late to pretty quick. What did Jeth Hallett mean last night by sayin' that he'd sold his four hundred Development a couple of months ago? What did he mean by it?”
Martha Phipps was about to speak. Cabot, too, leaned forward. But Galusha raised a protesting hand.
“Please,” he said. “Mr. Pulcifer has a perfect right to ask. I have—ah—been expecting him to do so. Well, Mr. Pulcifer, I presume Captain Hallet meant that he had—ah—sold the stock.”
“He did? I want to know! And what did he mean by sayin' he'd sold it to YOU?”
Again Miss Phipps and Cousin Gussie seemed about to take a hand and again Galusha silenced them.
“If you please,” he begged. “It is quite all right, really.... I suppose, Mr. Pulcifer, he meant that he had done just that. He did. I—ah—bought his stock.”
“You did! YOU did? Say, what kind of a—Say, am I crazy or are you?”
“Oh, I am. Dear me, yes, Mr. Pulcifer. At all events, I purchased the stock from Captain Hallett. I bought Miss Phipps' shares at the same time.”