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Updated: June 17, 2025
Probably the next three days were the longest Kit had ever spent in her life. Under Dr. Gallup's orders, she remained in bed to get over the shock of her immersion. "When I don't feel shocked a bit," she expostulated. "I don't see why I can't sit in a chair down on the veranda." "Yes, you just want to pose as an interesting invalid," Jean laughed.
He still insisted upon doing much of the cooking; it was true that he had good reason to doubt Betty Gallup's ability to cook. When there were no customers in the store Louise often sat there with Cap'n Amazon, with either a book or her sewing in her hand. Sometimes they would not speak for an hour, while the substitute storekeeper "made up the books," which was a serious task for him.
"I'll never touch it!" he whispered to himself. "There's too much depending on it; I can't do it!" As if from a great distance he seemed to hear Frank Merriwell crying: "Just a little single, Ephraim! You never failed in a pinch in all your life! You can't fail now!" Those words seemed to brush the mist from Gallup's eyes, and something like confidence crept back into his heavy heart.
"He did, hey?" responded Washy sharply, springing the surprise he had been leading up to. "Then why didn't he take his chist with him? It's come back to the Paulmouth depot, so Perry Baker says, it not being claimed down to Boston." Washy Gallup's gossip should not have made much impression upon Louise Grayling's mind, but it fretted her.
"Why aren't you holding your partner's head since he committed political suicide in the Sentinel?" "I'd rather hold your head, Lyd, any day in the week." "Gaul," said Miss Chipley, passing on, her sharply etched little face glowing in the pink reflection of the parasol, "is bounded on the north by Mrs. Gallup's boarding-house, and on the south by " "By the Frigid Zone!"
Bender tried to put a speedy ball across Bruce's shoulders, but it was far too high. "Four balls take your base!" cried Carker. "The best thing you could have done, Mitt," laughed McCann. "Here comes the tall jay, and he never made a hit in his life." Ephraim Gallup's hands were trembling as he picked up a bat and walked out. His legs were weak, and there was a mist before his eyes.
"Come on, Eph," he said, slipping an arm through Gallup's, "let's you and Oi go for a warruk. You nade it, my bhoy you nade it." "If yeou'll jest take me daown to the lake and kick me in, I'll be much obleeged to ye, Barney," said the Vermonter. "It's moighty bad you're faling, Oi dunno?" "By gum! I oughter feel bad. Yeou heard Frank talking about jest sech gol-dinged chumps as I be.
Penfield Evans, with a determination which considerably expanded his considerable chest measurement, ran two at a bound up the white stone steps of Mrs. Gallup's private boarding-house and pulled out the white china knob of a bell that gave no evidence of having sounded within, and left him uncertain to ring again.
And to meet Mrs. Gallup's friend, Señorita Garcia, is scarcely a smaller pleasure." "How beauteeful he do talk!" murmured Juanita. There was a strange flash in her dark eyes as she surveyed the young socialist. With his long hair, his pale classical face, his sad poetic eyes, he was indeed a handsome fellow of a type seldom seen.
And in her inmost soul she admitted with a thrill that shook her physically as well as spiritually that her interest in this Cape Cod fisherman's son was an interest rooted in her inmost being. The incident of the wrecked sea chest held her attention in only a secondary degree. All through supper she was listening for Betty Gallup's heavy step.
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