sed.

"Erastus! Ras!" she called. "Hello, Ras! Hold that telegram. Don't send
it yet. Do you hear?"

Mr. Beebe's voice expressed his surprise. "Why, yes, Martha," he said,
"I hear. But I don't know. You see, Mr. Bangs, he sent a note along with
the telegram sayin' he wanted it rushed."

"Never mind. You hold it until you hear from me again--or from him. Yes,
I'll take all the responsibility. Erastus Beebe, don't you send that
telegram."

She hung up the receiver and hurried to the outer door. Galusha was
nowhere in sight. Then she remembered that Primmie had said he had gone
toward the lighthouse. She threw a knitted scarf over her shoulders,
seized an umbrella from the rack--for the walk showed broad splashes
where drops of rain had fallen--and started in search of him. She had
no definite plan. She was acting as entirely upon impulse as Cabot
had acted in seeking their recent interview; but of one thing she was
determined--he should not wreck his career if she, in any way, could
prevent it.

She reached the gate of the government property, but she did not open
it. She was certain he would not be in the light keeper's cottage; she
seemed to have an intuition as to where he was, and, turning, followed
the path along the edge of the bluff. She followed it for perhaps three
hundred yards, then she saw him. He was sitting upon a knoll, his hands
clasped about his knees. The early dusk of the gloomy afternoon was
rapidly closing in, the raindrops were falling more thickly, but he did
not seem to realize these facts, or, if he did, to care. He sat there, a
huddled little bundle of misery, and her heart went out to him.

He did not hear her approach. She came and stood beside him.

"Mr. Bangs," she said.

Then he looked up, saw her, and scrambled to his feet.

"Why--why, Miss Martha!" he exclaimed. "I did not see you--ah--hear you,
I mean. What is it? Is anything wrong?"

She nodded. She found it very hard to speak and, when she did do so, her
voice was shaky.

"Yes," she said, "there is. Somethin' very wrong. Why did you telegraph
the Institute folks that you wouldn't accept their offer?... Oh, I found
it out. Ras Beebe couldn't get one word in your message and he read it
to me over the 'phone. But that doesn't matter. That doesn't count. Why
did you refuse, Mr. Bangs?"

He put his hand to his forehead. "I--I am sorry if it troubled you,"
he said. "I didn't mean for you to know it--ah--yet. I refused
because-