"But, Cap'n Jeth," urged the first voice, and Mr. Bangs recognized it as
belonging to his obliging guide and pilot of the fateful Friday evening,
Mr. Horatio Pulcifer. "But, Cap'n Jeth," said Mr. Pulcifer, "don't fly
off the handle for nothin'. I ain't tryin' to put nothin' over on you.
I'm just--"

"I don't want to hear you," broke in the second voice, gruffly. "This
is the Lord's Day and I don't want to talk business with you or nobody
else--especially with you."

For some reason this seemed to irritate Mr. Pulcifer. His tone had lost
a little of its urbanity when he answered.

"Oh, especially with me, eh?" he repeated. "Well, what's the 'especially
with me' for? If you think I'm any more to blame than the rest, you're
mistaken. I tell you when you and me and Cap'n Jim and all hands of us
got the Wellmouth Development Company goin' it looked like a cinch. How
was I to know?"

"I tell you, Raish, I don't want to talk about it."

"And I tell you, Jeth Hallett, I DO want to. You've hove in that
'especially with me' and I don't like it. Look here, what are you
pickin' on me for? How was I to--No, now you wait a minute, Cap'n Jeth,
and answer me. I've chased you 'way over here and you can give me five
minutes even if 'tis Sunday. Come, Cap'n, come, just answer me and then
I won't bother you any more."

There was silence for a brief interval. Galusha, crouching behind the
tomb and wondering if the time had come for him to show himself, waited