"Nothin's likelier than
that he's comin' to sorter thank Zenas Henry."
"Thank us!" Zenas Henry burst out. "Thank us for bringin' up our own
child! What business is it of his? Do we go traipsin' to Belleport to
thank him for bein' good to his children?"
"No, no, Zenas Henry," Captain Phineas replied soothingly. "Of course
he ain't comin' here to thank us. That would be plumb ridiculous.
More probable he's comin' as I said, to make a friendly call since he's
a relative."
But in spite of this reassurance, the ripple of misgiving had not
entirely died away before the well-known touring-car with the New York
financier in its tonneau made its appearance at the foot of the hill.
"He's comin', Zenas Henry!"
"There he is!"
"That's him!" was the excited comment.
But Zenas Henry maintained a grim silence. He had risen to his full
height and now stood braced to meet an ordeal which he dreaded far more
than he would have been willing to admit. His gaunt figure was stiff
with resolution, his jaw set, his lips compressed.
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