And he wouldn't have come--not then--if I hadn't written for him."
Gertrude was speechless. Her father went on.
"Long's we're confessin'," he said, "we might as well make a clean job of it. I wrote him, all on my own hook. You see, Gertie, 'twas on your account mainly. I was gettin' pretty desperate about you. Instead of straightenin' out your ma's course you were followin' in her wake, runnin' ahead of her, if anything. It looked as if you'd have her hull down and out of the race, if you kept on. _I_ couldn't hold you back, and, bein' desperate, as I say, I wrote John to come and see if he could. And I told him to come quick.... Hey? What did you say?"
The young lady had said nothing; she had been listening, however, and now she seemed to have found an answer to a puzzle.
"So that was why he came?" she said, in a low tone, as if thinking aloud. "That was why. But--but without a word to me."
"Oh, I 'specially wrote him not to tell you he was comin'. I didn't want you to know. I wanted to have a talk with him first and tell him just how matters stood. After you'd gone to Chapter meetin' that night--I always thought 'twas queer, your bein' so determined to go, but I see why now; 'twas part of your plan, wasn't it?"
"Yes, yes, of course. Go on."
"Well, I judge John thought 'twas funny, too--but never mind. After you'd gone, he and I had our talk. I told him everything. He was kind of troubled; I could see that; but he stood up for you through thick and thin. He only laughed when I told him--told him some things, those that worried me most."
Gertrude noticed his hesitation.
"What were those things?" she asked.
"Oh, nothin'. They seem so foolish now; but at that time--"
"Daddy, did you tell him of my--my supposed friendship for Mr. Hungerford?"
Daniel reluctantly nodded. "Yes," he admitted. "I told him some. Maybe I told him more than was absolutely true. Perhaps I exaggerated a little. But he was so stubborn in not believin', that.... Hey? By Godfreys!" as the thought struck him for the first time, "THAT wasn't what ailed John, was it? He wasn't JEALOUS of that consarned Percy?"
Gertrude did not answer.
"It couldn't be," continued Daniel. "He's got more sense than that. Besides, you told him, when you and he were alone together, why you was actin' so, didn't you? Or did he know it beforehand? I presume likely he did. Your mother and I seem to have been the only animals left outside the show tent."
Again there was no answer. When the young lady spoke it was to ask another question.
"Daddy," she said, not looking at him, but folding and unfolding a bit of paper on the counter, "are you SURE you mailed that letter I gave you the morning after--after he went away?"
"What? That letter to John that you gave me to mail? I'm sure as I can be of anything. I put it right in amongst the bills and checks I had ready, and when the postman came I gave 'em all to him with my own hands. Yes, it was mailed all right."
"And no letters--letters for me--came afterwards, which I didn't receive? You didn't put one in your pocket and forget it?"
"No. I'm sure of that. Why, your mother's cleaned out all my pockets a dozen times since. She says I use my clothes for wastebaskets, and she has to empty 'em pretty nigh as often. No, I didn't forget any letter for you, Gertie. But why? What made you think I might have?"
"Oh, nothing; nothing, Daddy." Then, throwing down the bit of paper and moving toward the door, "I must go in and see Mother. I have scarcely seen her all the morning."
"But hold on, Gertie! Don't go. I haven't found out what--Stop! Gertie, look at me! Why don't you look at me?"
She would not look and she would not stop. The door closed behind her. Captain Dan threw himself back in the chair. When Mr. Bangs, returning from his trip after orders, entered the store he found his employer just where he had left him. Now, however, the expression of high, good humor was no longer upon the captain's face.
"Well, Cap'n," hailed Nathaniel cheerfully. "Still on deck, I see. What are you doing; exercising your mind?"
"Humph! What little mind I'VE got has been exercised too blessed much. It needs rest more'n anything, but it don't seem likely to get a great deal. Nate, this world reminds me of a worn-out schooner, it's as full of troubles as that is full of leaks; and you no sooner get one patched up than another breaks out in a new place. Ah hum! ... What you got there? The mail, is it? Anything for me?"
There was one letter bearing the captain's name. Nathaniel handed it to the owner of that name and the latter inspected the envelope and the postmark.
"From Labe Ginn," he observed. "Nobody else in Scarford that I know would spell Daniel with two 'l's and no 'i.' What's troublin' Laban? Somethin' about the house, I presume likely."
He leisurely tore open the envelope. The letter was a lengthy one, scrawled upon a half dozen sheets of cheap note paper. The handwriting was almost as unique as the spelling, which is saying considerable.
"From Laban, is it?" asked Mr. Bangs casually.
"Yup, it's from Labe."
"There was another from him, then. At any rate there was one addressed in the same hen-tracks to Azuba. I met her as I was coming out of the post-office and gave it to her; she was on her way to the grocery store, she said."
Daniel nodded, but made no comment. He was doing his best to decipher Mr. Ginn's hieroglyphics. Occasionally he chuckled.
Laban began by saying that he expected his term as caretaker of the Scarford property to be of short duration. He had dropped in at the real estate office and had there been told that arrangements for the leasing of the mansion, furniture, and all, were practically completed. The new tenant would move in within a fortnight, he was almost sure. Mr. Ginn, personally, would be glad of it, for it was "lonesomer than a meeting-house on a week day."
"I spend the heft of my daytimes out in the Back yard," he wrote. "I've lokated a bordin house handy by, but the Grub thare is tuffer than the mug on a Whailer two year out. I don't offen meet anybody I know, but tother day I met barney Black. He asked about you and your fokes and I told him. He was prety down on his Luck I thort and acted Blue. His wife is hed neck and heles in Chapter goins on. I see her name in the Newspaper about evry day.
"He said give you his Regards and tell you you was a dam lukky Man."
Captain Dan's chuckle developed into a hearty laugh. He sympathized with and understood the feelings of B. Phelps.
"He has sold his summer Plase at Trumet," the letter went on. "Mrs. Black don't want to come thare no more. He wuddent say why but I shuddent wonder if it was becos she ain't hankering to mete your Wife after the way she treted her. He has sold the Plase to some fokes name of Fenholtz. I know thats the rite name becos I made him spel it for me. Do you know them?"
Daniel uttered an exclamation of delight and struck his thigh a resounding slap.
"What's up?" asked Nathaniel. "Got some good news?"
"You bet! Mighty good! Some people I knew and liked in Scarford have bought the Black cottage here in Trumet. I rather guess I am responsible in a way; I preached Cape Cod to 'em pretty steady. The Fenholtzes! Well, well!"
"What I realy wrote you for," continued Mr. Ginn, at the top of page four, "was to tell you that I had a feller come to see me Yesterday. It was that forriner Hapgood who used to work for you. He looked prety run to seed. He haddent got anny Job since he left you, he sed, and he was flat Broke. I gave him a Square meel or what they call one at the bordin' house and he and me had a long talk. He told me a lot of things but manely all he wanted to talk about was that Swab of a Coussin of yours, that Hungerford. Hapgood was down on