“Oh, yes—­ah—­yes.  I am here.  Quite so—­yes.”

“Well, I’m glad.  I thought you might have gone clamming or something.  Well, I asked if you knew who this was?  Do you?”

Galusha swallowed, shut his eyes, and then faced the inevitable.

“It—­it is Cousin Gussie. isn’t it?” he faltered.

He heard, or imagined that he did, a little gasp of surprise from Miss Phipps.  He did not dare look again in her direction.

“That’s right,” said the voice.  “You’re a good guesser.  How are you, anyway?”

Galusha stammered that he was very well.  He added that he was glad to see his relative.  The relative promptly observed that his eyesight must be remarkably good.

“You know what I’ve called you up for, of course?” she added.

Martha had risen and was leaving the room on tiptoe.

“You and your cousin can talk better alone, I know,” she whispered.  “I want to see Primmie a minute, anyway.”

Her lodger regarded her mutely.  The expression of dumb misery on his face caused her to pause for an instant.

“You’re sure there’s no bad news, Mr. Bangs?” she asked, anxiously.

He managed to smile, but the smile was not a convincing success.  “Oh, yes—­ah—­quite, quite,” he protested.  “It—­it is—­ah—­ extremely pleasant, really. . . .  Yes—­yes, Cousin Gussie, I am—­ I am still here.”

“Oh, you are!  Fine!  I thought probably you had gone to dig another quahaug.  Why don’t you answer letters?”

Galusha glanced desperately at the kitchen door.  Thank heaven, it was closed.

“I answered yours,” he declared.

“You did not.  You only half answered it.  That idiot Barbour sent you a check for over fourteen thousand dollars.  Of course, if I had been well and here he wouldn’t have done any such fool thing.  He says you told him to.”

“Ah—­did I?”

“Did you?  Don’t you know whether you did or not?  Well, never mind.  You came up here on two separate occasions, so they tell me, and drew thirteen thousand of that in cash and took it away with you.  Now what on earth did you do that for?”

Galusha did not answer.  Cabot immediately demanded to know if he was still there.  Assured of this, he repeated his question.

“I—­I wanted it,” faltered Galusha.

“You wanted it!  Wanted thirteen thousand two hundred dollars in cash down there on the clam flats?  What did you want it for?”

“I—­I—­ Well, you see—­you see—­”

“No, I don’t see.  Now, look here, old man:  I realize you’re of age and that your money is your own, and all that.  It isn’t, legally speaking, one single bit my business if you take every cent you’ve got and sink it in the middle of Cape Cod Bay.  But I promised your aunt before she died that I would try and see that you didn’t do that kind of thing.  She knew you couldn’t take care of money; I knew it; why, confound it, you knew it, too!  You and I talked that whole matter over and we agreed I wasn’t to give you any large sums of your money, no matter how hard you begged for them, unless you told me why you wanted them and I was satisfied it was all right.  Didn’t we agree to that?  Isn’t that so?”