Winslow shook his head. "No," he answered. "I don't know's I do."
"You don't know as you do? Well, do you GUESS you do? Jed Winslow, what have you got up your sleeve?"
The proprietor of the windmill shop slowly turned and faced him. "I don't know's there's anything there, Sam," he answered, "but— but I shouldn't be much surprised if that telegram was from Leander."
"Leander? Leander Babbitt? What . . . Eh? What in thunder do YOU want?"
The last question was directed toward the window on the street side of the shop. Mr. Gabriel Bearse was standing on the outside of that window, energetically thumping on the glass.
"Open her up! Open her up!" commanded Gabe. "I've got somethin' to tell you."
Captain Sam opened the window. Gabriel's face was aglow with excitement. "Say! Say!" he cried. "Did he tell you? Did he tell you?"
"Did who tell what?" demanded the captain.
"Did Phin Babbitt tell you what was in that telegram he just got? What did he say when he read it? Did he swear? I bet he did! If that telegram wan't some surprise to old Babbitt, then—"
"Do you know what 'twas—what the telegram was?"