"Good-by, old man," he says, shaking hands. "You'll write me once in a
while, telling me how she is, and--and so on?"

"Bet you!" says I. "I'll keep you posted up. And let's hear how you
tackle the Consolidated Cash business."

July and the first two weeks in August moped along and everything at the
Old Home House kept about the same. Mabel was in mighty good spirits,
for her, and she got prettier every day. I had a couple of letters from
Jones, saying that he guessed he could get bookkeeping through his skull
in time without a surgical operation, and old Dillaway was down over one
Sunday and was preaching large concerning the "find" my candidate was
for the Providence branch. So I guessed I hadn't made no mistake.

I had considerable fun with Cap'n Jonadab over his not landing a rich
husband for the Seabury girl. Looked like the millionaire crop was going
to be a failure that summer.

"Aw, belay!" says he, short as baker's pie crust. "The season ain't over
yet. You better take a bath in the salt mack'rel kag; you're too fresh
to keep this hot weather."

Talking "husband" to him was like rubbing pain-killer on a scalded pup,
so I had something to keep me interested dull days. But one morning he
comes to me, excited as a mouse at a cat show, and says he:

"Ah, ha! what did I tell you? I've got one!"

"I see you have," says I. "Want me to send for the doctor?"