any man would 'ave been, and I forgot myself. Make 'er 'and over my letter, sir."
The captain turned to the defiant Mrs. Ginn.
"Have you got a letter of his, Zuba?" he demanded.
Azuba laughed. "I have," she declared, "and I'm glad of it. I've been waiting to get somethin' like it for a long spell. Stealin'! HE accuse anybody of stealin'! Here, Daniel Dott, you read that letter. Read it and see who's been doin' the stealin' around here."
She extended the letter at arm's length. The butler made a snatch at it, but Captain Dan was too quick. He unfolded the crumpled sheet of paper. It bore the printed name and address of one of Scarford's newer and more recently established grocers and provision dealers, and read as follows:
EDWARD H. HAPGOOD,
SIR:--Our order clerk informs us that you expect a higher percentage of commission on goods ordered by your household. We do not feel that we should pay this. While we, being a new house, were willing, in order to obtain your business, to allow a fair rate of commission to you for putting it in our way, and while, during the past three months, we have paid such commission, we do not feel--
Daniel tossed the note on the floor. He marched to the door leading to the back yard and threw it open. Then he turned to the butler.
"See that door?" he inquired, pointing toward it. "Use it."
Hapgood did not seem to comprehend.
"Wh-what, sir?" he faltered.
"Use that door. Get out! Out of this house, and don't you dare show your nose inside it again. Here!" stepping to the rack behind the open door. "These are your--duds--aren't they? Take 'em and get out. Quick!"
He threw an overcoat and hat at the astonished man-servant, who caught them mechanically.
"Get!" repeated the captain.
Hapgood apparently understood at last. His usual expression of polite humility vanished and he glowered malevolently.
"So I'm fired, am I?" he demanded. "Fired, without no notice or nothin'. 'Ow about my two weeks' wages? 'Ow about square treatment? 'Ow about my things upstairs? I've got rights, I 'ave, and you'll find it out. Blame your eyes, I--"
He darted through the doorway just in time. Captain Dan was on the threshold.
"You can send for your things upstairs," said the captain. "They'll be ready--either up there or on the sidewalk. Now, my--hum--thief," with deliberate and dangerous calmness, "I'm comin' out into that yard. If I was you I'd be somewhere else when I get there. That's my advice."
The advice was taken. Mr. Hapgood was in the street by the time his employer reached the gate. Bolting that gate, Daniel walked back to the kitchen.
"Thank you, Zuba," he said quietly. "You've only confirmed what I suspected before, but thank you, just the same."
Azuba was regarding him with a surprise in which respect was strongly mingled.
"You're welcome," she said drily. "It's good riddance to bad rubbish, that's what I call it. But," her surprise getting the better of her judgment, "I must say I ain't seen you behave--I mean--"
She stopped, the judgment returning. But Captain Dan read her thoughts and answered them.
"He's a man," he said shortly, "or an apology for one. I know how to deal with a MAN--his kind, anyway."
Azuba nodded. "I should say you did," she observed. "Well, if you'd like to hear the whole yarn, how I come to suspect him and all, I can tell you. You see--"
But Daniel would not listen. "I don't want to hear it," he said. "Tell Serena, if you want to, when she comes home. I've got too much else on my mind to bother with swabs like him. If he should try to come back again you can call me, otherwise not. I ain't interested."
And yet, if he could have seen and heard his ex-butler just at that moment, he might have been interested. Hapgood, on the next corner, out of sight from the Dott home, had met and waylaid Mr. Percy Hungerford. To the latter gentleman he was telling the story of his discharge. Cousin Percy seemed disturbed and angry.
"It's your own fault," he declared. "You ought to have been more careful."
"Careful! 'Ow should I know the fools was going to write a letter? I told 'em not to. And 'ow did I know the old woman--blast 'er--was watchin' me all the time? And now I've lost my job, and a good soft job, too. You've got to get it back for me, Mr. 'Ungerford; you've got to 'elp me, sir."
"I'll help you all I can, of course, but I doubt if it will do any good. I can't stand talking with you here. Drop me a line at the club, telling me where you are, and I'll let you know what turns up. Oh, say, have any more letters come for--you know who?"
"No, that was the only one, sir. But a telegram came this morning."
Mr. Hungerford started. "A telegram?" he repeated. "For her?"
"Yes, sir. And from 'im, it was, too."
"Did she get it?"
Mr. Hapgood winked. "It was 'phoned up from the telegraph office, sir," he said, "and I answered the 'phone. 'Ere's the copy I made, sir."
He extracted a slip of paper from his pocket. Cousin Percy snatched the slip and read the penciled words. Hapgood smiled.
"Looks good, don't it, sir," he observed. "'Frisco's a long way off."
Hungerford did not answer. He tore the paper into small pieces and tossed them away.
"Well," he said, after a moment, "good by and good luck. Let me know where you are and meanwhile I'll see what can be done for you. Good by."
He was moving off, but his companion stepped after him.
"Just a minute, sir," he said. "Could you 'elp me out a bit, in the money way? I'm flat broke; the old 'ayseed chucked me without a penny; 'e did, so 'elp me."
Cousin Percy looked distinctly annoyed.
"I'm pretty nearly broke myself," he declared, impatiently.
"Is that so, sir, I'm sorry, but I think you'll 'ave to 'elp me a bit. I think--I think you'd better, Mr. 'Ungerford, sir."
Hungerford looked at him. The look was returned. Then the young gentleman extracted a somewhat attenuated roll of bills from his pocket, peeled off two and handed them to his companion.
"There you are," he replied. "That's all and more than I can spare, just now. Good by."
"Good by, sir--for now. And thank you kindly."
Captain Dan, for all his prompt handling of the thieving butler and his professed ability to deal with men--Mr. Hapgood's kind of man--awaited the return of his wife and daughter with considerable uneasiness. Hapgood, in his capacity as trained, capable, aristocratic servant, had been a favorite of Serena's. The captain dreaded telling his wife what, in the heat of his anger, he had done. But his dread was needless. Serena's mind was too much occupied with politics and political ambition to dwell upon less important matters.
"I suppose it is all right," she said. "If he was a thief he should be discharged, of course. No doubt you did right, Daniel, but we shall miss him dreadfully. I don't know where we can get another butler like him."
Daniel gasped. "Good land of love!" he cried; "we don't WANT another like him, do we! I should hope we didn't."
"I don't mean another thief. Oh, dear me! Why do you pick me up in that way? One would think you took a delight in worrying me all you could. Get me a cup of tea. I want it right away. My nerves are all unstrung. Gertie--"
But Gertie