Galusha the Magnificent Part 65

"It wasn't a very long story," he went on, "but it is a true one.

I happened to think of it just now while we were talking, you and I and--ah--Miss Martha. It is about me. On one of my expeditions in Egypt, Miss Lu--Oh, good gracious!--On one of my Egyptian expeditions, Lulie, I was in search of a certain tomb, or group of tombs. It was on this expedition, by the way, that we found the very remarkable statue of Amenemhait; Amenemhait III, you know."

Lulie smiled. "I DON'T know," she said, "but it doesn't matter."

"Eh? Oh, no, not at all, not in the least. He was a Pharaoh of the first Theban period. But that doesn't matter either; and he hasn't anything to do with this story. We had learned of the existence of this group of tombs, or that they had existed at one time, and of their approximate location, from an inscription dug up by myself at--"

The door of the light keeper's cottage swung open with a bang. A voice roared across the night.

"Lulie!" shouted Captain Jethro. "Lulie!"

The Bangs' story broke off in the middle. Its narrator and his young companion turned startled faces toward the sound.

"Lulie!" bellowed Captain Jeth, again. "Lulie!"

Lulie answered. "Why, yes, father," she said. "I am right here, at the gate. Why are you shouting so? What is the matter?"

The captain seemed much surprised. He raised a hand to s.h.i.+eld his eyes from the lamplight in the room behind him.

"Hey?" he queried. "Where be you? You ain't right there at the gate, are you?"

"Why, yes, of course I am."

"Humph!..." Then, with renewed suspicion, "Who's that with you?"

"Mr. Bangs. I ran over to Martha's for a minute or two, and he walked home with me."

"Good-evening, Captain Hallett," hailed Galusha. Captain Jethro pulled his beard.

"Humph!" he grunted. "Humph! Mr. Bangs, eh?... Humph! I thought--Cal'late I must have fell asleep on the sofy and been dreamin'.... Humph!... Lulie, you better come in now, it's chilly out here. Mr. Bangs can come, too, I suppose likely--if he wants to."

It was not the most cordial of invitations and Galusha did not accept it.

"I must get back to the house, Captain," he said. "It IS chilly, as you say. No doubt he is right, Lulie. You mustn't stay. Good-night."

"But, Mr. Bangs, you haven't finished your story."

"Eh? Dear me, so I haven't. Well--"

"Lulie!" Captain Jethro's voice was fretful. "Lulie, you come along in now. I want you."

Lulie shook her head resignedly. "Yes, father," she replied, "I'm coming this minute. You see?" she whispered. "He is getting back all the impatience and--and strangeness that he had last fall. It is that dreadful spirit business. Oh, dear!"

Galusha softly patted her shoulder. "I won't finish my story," he said, in a low tone. "It isn't necessary, because I can tell you the--ah--moral, so to speak, and that will do as well. We found those tombs at last by doing a thing which, we were all sure, was the worst thing we could possibly do. It turned out to be that 'worst thing' which saved us. And--and I wish you would think that over, Lulie," he added, earnestly. "It looked to be the very worst thing and--and it turned out to be the best.... Ah--good-night."

But she detained him. "I don't understand, Mr. Bangs," she said. "What do you mean? You said you were going to tell me the moral of your story.

That isn't a moral, is it?"

"Eh? No--ah--no. I suppose it isn't. But--but you think it over, to please me, you know. A--a something which looked to be the worst that could happen was the miracle that gave us our tombs. Perhaps the--perhaps what you dread most may give you yours. Not your tomb; dear me, no! I hope not. But may be the means of--of saving the situation.

There, there, I must go. Good-night."

"Wait, wait, Mr. Bangs.... Oh, yes, father, I'm coming now.... Mr.

Bangs, what DO you mean? What I dread the most? What I dread--I think I dread that silly seance next Sat.u.r.day night more than anything else. Mr.

Bangs, you don't mean--"

"Now, now, now, Lulie. I mustn't say a word more. I--I have said too much, I know. Just think over the--ah--moral, that's all. Think it over--but don't mention it to any one else, please. Good-night.

Good-night, Captain Hallett."

He hurried away. Lulie stared after him, wonderingly; then she turned and walked slowly and thoughtfully to the door. Her father regarded her with a troubled expression.

"I dreamed," he said, slowly, "that Julia come to me and said somethin'

about you. I don't seem to recollect just what 'twas she said. But 'twas somethin' about you--somethin' about me lookin' out for you.... Seem's if," he added, doubtfully, "as if she said you'd look out for me, but that's just foolishness and wouldn't mean nothin'. It couldn't be, that couldn't.... Humph! Well, come on in."

The remainder of that week the seance to be held in the light keeper's cottage on Sat.u.r.day evening was much talked about. The devout, including the Beebes, the Hardings and the Blounts were quite excited about it.

The scoffers derided and waxed sarcastic. Of these scoffers the most outspoken was Horatio Pulcifer. He declared that the whole fool business made him tired. Old Cap'n Jeth Hallett must be getting cracked as one of them antique plates. He wasn't sure that the selectmen hadn't ought to stop the thing, a lot of ninnies sitting in a round circle holding hands and pretending to get spirit messages. Huh! Just let 'em get a message that proved something, that meant something to somebody, and he'd believe, too, he'd be glad to believe. But he was from Missouri and they'd got to show him. With much more to the same effect.

In private, and in the ear of Galusha Bangs, he made a significant remark.

"Go?" he repeated. "Me go to that seance thing? Not so you'd notice it, Perfessor. I'm what they call a wise bird. I get up early, a consider'ble spell before breakfast. Um-hm, a consider'ble spell.

Sat.u.r.day night I'm goin' to be a long ways from Gould's Bluffs lighthouse, you bet on that."

Galusha expressed surprise and gave reasons for that emotion. Raish winked and nodded.

"Yes, I know," he said, "but I'm goin' to have what they call an alibi.

You ain't been to court much, I presume likely, Perfessor, so you may not be on to what alibi is. When Bill Alworthy was hauled up for sellin'

without a license we had an alibi for him. He proved he was fourteen mile away from where he sold the stuff--I mean from where they said he sold it--and it was that what got him off. Well, on Sat.u.r.day night I'm goin' to have an alibi. I'm goin' to be settin' in at a little penny-ante in Elmer Rogers' back room over to the Centre. An alibi's a nice thing to have in the house, Perfessor. Hey? Haw, haw, haw! Yes, sir-ee! In case there's any talk they won't be able to pin much on your Uncle Raish, not much they won't."

He nudged the Bangs' ribs and walked off, chuckling. Galusha, too, smiled as he watched him go. Both he and Mr. Pulcifer seemed to find amus.e.m.e.nt in the situation. Yet, and Galusha realized it, there was also for him that element of risk.

On Thursday Captain Jethro stopped at the Phipps' home to invite its inmates to the Sat.u.r.day evening meeting. His invitation was not precisely whole-hearted, but the reason he gave for offering it caused its acceptance.

"Lulie seems to want you and Mr. Bangs," he said, "so come along if you feel like it. I know you're one of the don't-believers, Martha, and I guess likely Bangs is, but never mind. The door's open if you want to come. Maybe you'll hear somethin' that'll lead you to the light; let's hope so. Anyhow, Lulie wants you."

It will be noticed that Primmie's name was not mentioned in the invitation, but that did not prevent her acceptance. That evening, after the supper dishes were washed, Miss Phipps heard agonized wails coming from the kitchen and, going there, found her maid seated in a chair, swaying back and forth, and, as Zach Bloomer once described a similar performance, "tootin' her everlastin' soul into the harmonica."

"I'm practicin' up for Sat.u.r.day night," she informed her mistress, cheerfully. "I've been tryin' to think up some other hymn tunes and I've thought of one, but I can't remember what 'tis, the whole of it, I mean.

You know, Miss Martha, the one about:

'Oh, what a sight 'twill be When the somethin'-or-other host we see, As numberless as the sands on the seash.o.r.e.'

What kind of a host is it, Miss Martha? All I can think of is 'rancid'

and I'm plaguy sure 'tain't THAT."

Martha burst out laughing. "It is 'ransomed,' Primmie," she said. "But if you're figurin' on playin' that thing over at the seance, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. Cap'n Jethro has had the old melodeon repaired, I believe. And, so far as I've heard, you haven't been asked to come, have you?"

Primmie became a statue of despair.

"Oh, Miss Martha," she pleaded, "CAN'T I go? Can't I please go? You're goin' and so's Mr. Bangs, and--and I do like 'em so, those spirit meetin's. They scare me 'most to death and I just love 'em. PLEASE can't I go, Miss Martha?"