rtha was a bit disturbed. "You mustn't put words in my mouth, Mr.
Cabot," she said. "I didn't say Raish Pulcifer was dishonest."

"No, that is true. And I beg your pardon for asking embarrassing
questions. I have seen some of the fellow's letters and usually a letter
is a fairly good indication of character--or lack of it. I have had my
surmises concerning the ubiquitous Horatio for some time."

Martha seemed to be thinking.

"I understood you to say he was your agent for somethin' down here, Mr.
Cabot," she said. "Sellin' somethin', was he? That kind of an agent?"

"No. As a matter of fact, he was supposed to be buying something, but he
hasn't made much progress. He started out well, but of late he seems
to have found trouble. I am rather surprised because we--that is,
Williams--pay him a liberal commission. I judge he doesn't hate a
dollar and that kind of man usually goes after it hammer and tongs. You
see--But there, I presume I should not go into particulars, not yet."

"No, no, Mr. Cabot. Of course not, of course not."

"No." Cabot had been turning over the leaves of the memorandum book
while speaking. "And yet," he went on, "there are one or two names here
concerning which you might be able to help us. Pulcifer writes that
two of the largest stockholders.... Humph!... Eh? Why, by Jove, this is
remarkable! You are Miss Martha Phipps, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Was your father, by any chance, James H. Phipps?"

"Yes."

"Well, I declare! This IS remarkable.... And--why, you have been
speaking of a Captain--er--Jethro Somebody? Is he--He isn't Jethro
Hallett, is he?"

"Why, yes. I told you his name. He is the light keeper here at Gould's
Bluffs and we are all goin' over to his house in a few minutes, for the
seance, you know."

"Well, well, well! And here I have been sitting and talking with one of
the very persons whom I came down here hoping to see."

"To see? You came down here hopin' to see ME? Mr. Cabot, is this another
joke?"

"Not a bit of it. If it is, the joke is on me for not identifying you
with the Martha Phipps that Pulcifer writes he can't do business with.
Miss Phipps, you own something we want to buy."

"I? Somethin' you want to buy?"

"Yes. Williams wants to buy it and I am interested with him. Miss
Phipps, you own two hundred and fifty shares of the stock of the
Wellmouth Development Company, don't you?"

He must have been surprised at the effect of this question. Martha
stared at