“It's all right, Pulcifer,” he said, reassuringly. “You won't have to worry about the Development matter any longer. I'll handle the rest of it. Oh, you did your best. I'm not blaming you. I'll see that you get a fair return, even if you couldn't quite deliver. But you must keep still about the whole thing, of course.”
Raish breathed heavily. Slowly the icy fingers ceased trifling with his spine and that backbone began to develop—quoting Miss Phipps' description—at least one new joint to every foot. He suppled visibly. He expressed himself with feeling. He begged the honor of shaking hands with the great man from Boston. Then he shook hands with Galusha and Miss Phipps. If Primmie had been present doubtless he would have shaken hands with her. When Cabot suggested that the interview had best terminate, he agreed with unction and oozed, rather than walked, through that doorway. Watching from the window, they saw him stop when he reached the road, draw a long breath, take a cigar from his pocket, light it, hitch his cap a trifle to one side, and stride away, a moving picture of still unshaken and serene self-confidence.
Cabot laughed delightedly. “That fellow is a joy forever,” he declared. “He's one of the seven wonders of the world.”
Martha sniffed. “Then the world better keep a sharp watch on the other six,” was her comment. “I wouldn't trust Raish Pulcifer alone with Bunker Hill monument—not if 'twas a dark night and he had a wheelbarrow.”
Lulie came rushing from the sitting room. She had heard all the Pulcifer-Bangs' dialogue and her one desire was to thank Galusha. But Galusha was not present. While Martha and Mr. Cabot were at the window watching the departure of Raish, the little man had left the room.
“But I must see him,” cried Lulie. “Oh, Martha, just think! He is responsible for EVERYTHING. Not only for sending father the Psychical Society books, but for planning all that happened at the seance. You heard what Raish said. He said that Mr. Bangs put him up to bribing Marietta to pretend getting the message ordering father to sell his stock. Why, if that is true—and, of course, it must be—and if—if Nelson and I should—if it SHOULD end right for us—why, Martha, he will be the one who made it possible. Oh, do you believe he did plan it, as Raish said?”
Martha nodded and turned away. “He seems to have spent most of his time plannin' for other folks,” she said.
“He didn't come through the sitting room,” said Lulie, “so he must be in the kitchen with Primmie. I'm going to find him.”
But she did not find him. Primmie said that Mr. Bangs had come out into the kitchen, taken his hat and coat, and left the house by the back door. Looking from that door, they saw his diminutive figure, already a good distance off, moving across the fields.
“He's on his way to the graveyard,” declared Primmie. Cabot was startled.