“Your arms, I presume likely,” he drawled.

“Yes, I’ve got my arms and there’s a fist at the end of each one of ’em.  Any more—­er—­flippity answers like that one and you’re liable to think you’re struck by lightnin’.  This lady and I have got news for you.  Do you know what ’tis?”

Jed looked at Mrs. Armstrong and then at the speaker.

“No-o,” he said, slowly.

“Well, to begin with it’s this:  Lute Small is leavin’ the Orham National a week from next Saturday by a vote of eight to one.  The directors and the cashier and I are the eight and he’s the one.  Ho, ho!  And who do you suppose comes aboard on the next Monday mornin’ to take over what Lute has left of the job?  Eh?  Who?  Why, your own candidate, that’s who.”

Jed started.  Again he looked at Mrs. Armstrong and, as if in answer to that look, she spoke.

“Yes, Mr. Winslow,” she said, quickly, “my brother is coming to Orham and Captain Hunniwell has given him the position.  It is really you to whom he owes it all.  You thought of it and spoke to the captain and to me.”

“But why in time,” demanded Captain Sam, “didn’t you tell me right out that ’twas Mrs. Armstrong’s brother you had in mind?  Gracious king! if I’d known that I’d have had Lute out a fortni’t sooner.”

Jed made no reply to this.  He was still staring at the lady.

“But—­but—­” he faltered, “did you—­have you—­”

He stopped in the middle of a word.  Ruth was standing behind the captain and he saw the frightened look in her eyes and the swift movement of her finger to her lips.

“Oh, yes,” she said.  “I—­I have.  I told Captain Hunniwell of Charlie’s experience in the bank in Wisconsin.  He has written there and the answer is quite satisfactory, or so he seems to think.”

“Couldn’t be better,” declared Captain Sam.  “Here’s the letter from the man that used to be the bank president out there.  Read it, Jed, if you want to.”

Jed took the letter and, with a hand which shook a little, adjusted his glasses and read.  It was merely a note, brief and to the point.  It stated simply that while Charles Phillips had been in the employ of their institution as messenger, bookkeeper and assistant teller, he had been found honest, competent, ambitious and thoroughly satisfactory.

“And what more do I want than that?” demanded the captain.  “Anybody who can climb up that way afore he’s twenty-five will do well enough for yours truly.  Course he and I haven’t met yet, but his sister and I’ve met, and I’m not worryin’ but what I’ll like the rest of the family.  Besides,” he added, with a combination laugh and groan, “it’s a case of desperation with us up at the bank.  We’ve got to have somebody to plug that leak you was talkin’ about, Jed, and we’ve got to have ’em immediate, right off quick, at once, or a little sooner.  It’s a providence, your brother is to us, Mrs. Armstrong,” he declared; “a special providence and no mistake.”