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Updated: July 9, 2025
How did he ever come to pick THAT cap out, Raish?" Mr. Pulcifer regarded the questioner with scornful superiority. "Pick it out!" he repeated. "He never picked it out, I picked it out for him. You don't know the first principles of sellin', Ras. If you had me to help around here you wouldn't have so many stickers in your stock." Beebe, gazing after the retreating figure of Mr. Bangs, sniffed.
But what I can't get a-hold of is how you come to fetch up way off here. The Centre's three mile or more astern of us; I've just come from there." "Oh, dear me! I must have lost my way. I was quite sure of it. It seemed to me I had been walking a very long time." Mr. Pulcifer laughed. "Haw, haw!" he guffawed, "I should say you had!
They found that all that Skoonic Creek land was in the hands of Raish Pulcifer and Cap'n Jeth Hallett; those two either owned it outright or had options where they didn't own." At first the Eagle Company declined to have anything to do with the new owners. They declared the whole affair off, so far as the Skoonic Creek location was concerned, and announced their intention of going elsewhere.
"Did he, indeed! Well, that is more than we've paid any one else, except Pulcifer. We allowed him a commission a margin on all he succeeded in buying.... Humph!... And I suppose Galusha paid old Hallett par, too. But why he should do such a thing is well, it is beyond me." She answered, but still she did not look at him. "He told you," she said. "He knew I needed money.
The capacity for hating was not in Galusha's make-up. He found it difficult to dislike any one strongly. But he could come nearer to disliking Raish Pulcifer than any one else, and now to dislike was added resentment. Why in the world should this Pulcifer person interfere with his peace of mind?
He and I supposed we had an agent here in your town, Miss Phipps, who was attending to it for us, but of late he hasn't been very successful. I received a letter from Williams from my friend; he is in the South asking me to see if I couldn't hurry matters up a bit. So I motored down. But this agent of ours was not in. Probably you know him. His name is Pulcifer."
Cabot glanced at her. "I see," he observed. "Well, what sort of a character is he? Would you trust him?" She hesitated. "Why why," she replied, "I suppose I should, if if " "If he was not too far away, or around the corner, or anything like that? I understand." Martha was a bit disturbed. "You mustn't put words in my mouth, Mr. Cabot," she said. "I didn't say Raish Pulcifer was dishonest."
"It's all right, Pulcifer," he said, reassuringly. "You won't have to worry about the Development matter any longer. I'll handle the rest of it. Oh, you did your best. I'm not blaming you. I'll see that you get a fair return, even if you couldn't quite deliver. But you must keep still about the whole thing, of course." Raish breathed heavily.
How do you do, Mr. Pulcifer?" This placidity seemed to shut off Raish's breath for the moment, but it returned in full supply. "How do I DO!" he repeated. "Well, I ain't what you'd call fust-rate, I'd say. I'm pretty darn sick, if anybody should ask you. I've had enough to make me sick. Say, look here, Bangs! What kind of a game is this you've been puttin' over on me hey?... Hey?"
But you cal'lated I didn't know it and that maybe you could unload your five hundred shares on to me at cut rates, eh? Raish, you're slick but you ain't bright, not very." He chuckled again. Mr. Pulcifer whistled, apparently expressing resignation. "ALL right, Cap'n," he observed, cheerfully, "just as you say. No harm in tryin', was there?
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