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<h2> CHAPTER XVIII. JOURNEY'S END </h2>
<p>Darkness was beginning to gather slowly and with almost an apologetic air,
as if it regretted the painful duty of putting an end to the perfect
summer day. Over to the west beyond the trees there still lingered a faint
afterglow, and a new moon shone like a silver sickle above the big barn.
Sally came out of the house and bowed gravely three times for luck. She
stood on the gravel, outside the porch, drinking in the sweet evening
scents, and found life good.</p>
<p>The darkness, having shown a certain reluctance at the start, was now
buckling down to make a quick and thorough job of it. The sky turned to a
uniform dark blue, picked out with quiet stars. The cement of the state
road which led to Patchogue, Babylon, and other important centres ceased
to be a pale blur and became invisible. Lights appeared in the windows of
the houses across the meadows. From the direction of the kennels there
came a single sleepy bark, and the small white woolly dog which had
scampered out at Sally's heels stopped short and uttered a challenging
squeak.</p>
<p>The evening was so still that Ginger's footsteps, as he pounded along the
road on his way back from the village, whither he had gone to buy
provisions, evening papers, and wool for the sweater which Sally was
knitting, were audible long before he turned in at the gate. Sally could
not see him, but she looked in the direction of the sound and once again
felt that pleasant, cosy thrill of happiness which had come to her every
evening for the last year.</p>
<p>"Ginger," she called.</p>
<p>"What ho!"</p>
<p>The woolly dog, with another important squeak, scuttled down the drive to
look into the matter, and was coldly greeted. Ginger, for all his love of
dogs, had never been able to bring himself to regard Toto with affection.
He had protested when Sally, a month before, finding Mrs. Meecher
distraught on account of a dreadful lethargy which had seized her pet, had
begged him to offer hospitality and country air to the invalid.</p>
<p>"It's wonderful what you've done for Toto, angel," said Sally, as he came
up frigidly eluding that curious animal's leaps of welcome. "He's a
different dog."</p>
<p>"Bit of luck for him," said Ginger.</p>
<p>"In all the years I was at Mrs. Meecher's I never knew him move at
anything more rapid than a stately walk. Now he runs about all the time."</p>
<p>"The blighter had been overeating from birth," said Ginger. "That was all
that was wrong with him. A little judicious dieting put him right. We'll
be able," said Ginger brightening, "to ship him back next week."</p>
<p>"I shall quite miss him."</p>
<p>"I nearly missed him—this morning—with a shoe," said Ginger.
"He was up on the kitchen table wolfing the bacon, and I took steps."</p>
<p>"My cave-man!" murmured Sally. "I always said you had a frightfully brutal
streak in you. Ginger, what an evening!"</p>
<p>"Good Lord!" said Ginger suddenly, as they walked into the light of the
open kitchen door.</p>
<p>"Now what?"</p>
<p>He stopped and eyed her intently.</p>
<p>"Do you know you're looking prettier than you were when I started down to
the village!"</p>
<p>Sally gave his arm a little hug.</p>
<p>"Beloved!" she said. "Did you get the chops?"</p>
<p>Ginger froze in his tracks, horrified.</p>
<p>"Oh, my aunt! I clean forgot them!"</p>
<p>"Oh, Ginger, you are an old chump. Well, you'll have to go in for a little
judicious dieting, like Toto."</p>
<p>"I say, I'm most awfully sorry. I got the wool."</p>
<p>"If you think I'm going to eat wool..."</p>
<p>"Isn't there anything in the house?"</p>
<p>"Vegetables and fruit."</p>
<p>"Fine! But, of course, if you want chops..."</p>
<p>"Not at all. I'm spiritual. Besides, people say that vegetables are good
for the blood-pressure or something. Of course you forgot to get the mail,
too?"</p>
<p>"Absolutely not! I was on to it like a knife. Two letters from fellows
wanting Airedale puppies."</p>
<p>"No! Ginger, we are getting on!"</p>
<p>"Pretty bloated," agreed Ginger complacently. "Pretty bloated. We'll be
able to get that two-seater if things go buzzing on like this. There was a
letter for you. Here it is."</p>
<p>"It's from Fillmore," said Sally, examining the envelope as they went into
the kitchen. "And about time, too. I haven't had a word from him for
months."</p>
<p>She sat down and opened the letter. Ginger, heaving himself on to the
table, wriggled into a position of comfort and started to read his evening
paper. But after he had skimmed over the sporting page he lowered it and
allowed his gaze to rest on Sally's bent head with a feeling of utter
contentment.</p>
<p>Although a married man of nearly a year's standing, Ginger was still
moving about a magic world in a state of dazed incredulity, unable fully
to realize that such bliss could be. Ginger in his time had seen many
things that looked good from a distance, but not one that had borne the
test of a closer acquaintance—except this business of marriage.</p>
<p>Marriage, with Sally for a partner, seemed to be one of the very few
things in the world in which there was no catch. His honest eyes glowed as
he watched her. Sally broke into a little splutter of laughter.</p>
<p>"Ginger, look at this!"</p>
<p>He reached down and took the slip of paper which she held out to him. The
following legend met his eye, printed in bold letters:</p>
<p>POPP'S<br/>
<br/>
OUTSTANDING<br/>
<br/>
SUCCULENT——APPETIZING——NUTRITIOUS.<br/></p>
<p>(JUST SAY "POP!" A CHILD<br/>
<br/>
CAN DO IT.)<br/></p>
<p>Ginger regarded this cipher with a puzzled frown.</p>
<p>"What is it?" he asked.</p>
<p>"It's Fillmore."</p>
<p>"How do you mean?"</p>
<p>Sally gurgled.</p>
<p>"Fillmore and Gladys have started a little restaurant in Pittsburg."</p>
<p>"A restaurant!" There was a shocked note in Ginger's voice. Although he
knew that the managerial career of that modern Napoleon, his
brother-in-law, had terminated in something of a smash, he had never quite
lost his reverence for one whom he considered a bit of a master-mind. That
Fillmore Nicholas, the Man of Destiny, should have descended to conducting
a restaurant—and a little restaurant at that—struck him as
almost indecent.</p>
<p>Sally, on the other hand—for sisters always seem to fail in proper
reverence for the greatness of their brothers—was delighted.</p>
<p>"It's the most splendid idea," she said with enthusiasm. "It really does
look as if Fillmore was going to amount to something at last. Apparently
they started on quite a small scale, just making pork-pies..."</p>
<p>"Why Popp?" interrupted Ginger, ventilating a question which was
perplexing him deeply.</p>
<p>"Just a trade name, silly. Gladys is a wonderful cook, you know, and she
made the pies and Fillmore toddled round selling them. And they did so
well that now they've started a regular restaurant, and that's a success,
too. Listen to this." Sally gurgled again and turned over the letter.
"Where is it? Oh yes! '... sound financial footing. In fact, our success
has been so instantaneous that I have decided to launch out on a really
big scale. It is Big Ideas that lead to Big Business. I am contemplating a
vast extension of this venture of ours, and in a very short time I shall
organize branches in New York, Chicago, Detroit, and all the big cities,
each in charge of a manager and each offering as a special feature, in
addition to the usual restaurant cuisine, these Popp's Outstanding
Pork-pies of ours. That done, and having established all these branches as
going concerns, I shall sail for England and introduce Popp's Pork-pies
there...' Isn't he a little wonder!"</p>
<p>"Dashed brainy chap. Always said so."</p>
<p>"I must say I was rather uneasy when I read that. I've seen so many of
Fillmore's Big Ideas. That's always the way with him. He gets something
good and then goes and overdoes it and bursts. However, it's all right now
that he's got Gladys to look after him. She has added a postscript. Just
four words, but oh! how comforting to a sister's heart. 'Yes, I don't
think!' is what she says, and I don't know when I've read anything more
cheering. Thank heaven, she's got poor dear Fillmore well in hand."</p>
<p>"Pork-pies!" said Ginger, musingly, as the pangs of a healthy hunger began
to assail his interior. "I wish he'd sent us one of the outstanding little
chaps. I could do with it."</p>
<p>Sally got up and ruffled his red hair.</p>
<p>"Poor old Ginger! I knew you'd never be able to stick it. Come on, it's a
lovely night, let's walk to the village and revel at the inn. We're going
to be millionaires before we know where we are, so we can afford it."</p>
<p>THE END <br/> <br/></p>
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