"Sho! Is that so? What things?"
Jed's shaking hand moved across his chin.
"Oh—I—I forget," he faltered. Then, after a desperate struggle, "I—I—I bought a suit of clothes."
The effort of this confession was a peculiar one. Captain Sam Hunniwell put back his head and roared with laughter. He was still laughing when he picked up his hat and turned to the door. Jed sprang from his seat.
"Eh? . . . You're not GOIN', are you, Sam?" he cried. The captain, wiping his eyes, turned momentarily.
"Yes, Jed," he said, chokingly, "I'm goin'. Say, if—if you get time some of these days dress up in that four hundred dollar suit you bought and then send me word. I'd like to see it."
He went out. The door of the outer shop slammed. Jed wiped the perspiration from his forehead and groaned helplessly and hopelessly.
The captain had reached the gate when he saw Phillips coming along the road toward him. He waited until the young man arrived.
"Hello, Captain," hailed Charles. "So you decided not to come back to the bank this afternoon, after all?"
His employer nodded. "Yes," he said. "I've been kept away on business. Funny kind of business, too. Say, Charlie," he added, "suppose likely your sister and you would be too busy to see me for a few minutes now? I'd like to see if you've got an answer to a riddle."