sat down; she appeared glad of the opportunity. Her husband faced her, grinning broadly.
"Just as handsome as ever; hey, old lady," he observed. "And look at the duds! Say, you're rigged up fine, from truck to keelson, ain't you, Zuby! Never seen you rigged finer. A body would think she knew I was comin', wouldn't they, Cap'n Dan?"
Daniel did not answer, although he seemed much interested in the situation.
Azuba drew a hand across her forehead.
"I DIDN'T know it," she declared emphatically. "Indeed, I didn't! Why didn't you write me, Laban Ginn?"
"Write! Write nothin'! I wanted to surprise you. But there, there! Don't set around in that rig any longer. Makes me feel as if you'd come to call on the parson. Take off your coat and bonnet and let's be sociable. And while we're talkin' you turn to and get supper. I'm pretty nigh starved to death. So's the cap'n; he said so."
Mrs. Ginn looked at Captain Dan. There was a twinkle in his eye. Azuba noticed that twinkle.
"Laban," she stammered, "I--I--I CAN'T stay here and get supper to-night. I can't."
Laban was tremendously surprised--at least he pretended to be.
"Can't!" he repeated. "Can't stay here, when I've just got home?"
"No, I can't. If I had known you was comin' 'twould have been different. But I didn't know it."
"What difference does that make? Zuby, don't make me laugh; I'm too hungry for jokin'. Take off your bonnet, now; take it off."
"I mustn't, really, Labe. It's lodge night and they expect me. I--"
"Take off your bonnet!"
"I can't! ... Well, I will, for just a minute." The last sentence was added in a great hurry, for her husband showed signs of preparing to remove the headgear with his own hands. She placed the bonnet on the table and fidgeted in her chair, glancing first at her employer and then at the clock. Captain Dan was smiling broadly.
"That's fine!" exclaimed Mr. Ginn. "Now you look like home folks. Now she'll get us some supper, won't she, Cap'n?"
Again Daniel did not answer, but his smile, as Azuba interpreted it, was provokingly triumphant. Her lips closed tightly.
"I can't get any supper to-night, Laban," she declared firmly. "I just can't. I'm awful sorry, bein' as you've just got home, but you'll have to forgive me. I'll explain when you and me are alone."
"Explain? Explain what?"
"Why--why--" with another look, almost vindictive, at the grinning captain, "what my reason is. But I can't tell you now--I can't."
"That's all right. I don't care about explainin's. You can explain any old time; just now, me and the cap'n want our supper."
"I shan't get your supper. I told Cap'n Dott I couldn't before I went upstairs. I'm goin' out."
"No, no, you ain't. Quit your foolin', old lady. I'm gettin' emptier every minute. So are you, ain't you, Cap'n?"
Daniel hesitated, looked at his housekeeper's face, and burst into a roar of laughter. That laugh decided the question. Azuba rose.
"Don't talk to me," she snapped. "I'm sorry, but it serves you right, Laban, for comin' home without sendin' me word; and just at the wrong time, too. Give me that bonnet."
She reached for the bonnet, but her husband reached it first. "'Tain't much of a bonnet, anyhow, Zuby," he said. "Now I look at it closer I don't think it's becomin' to your style of complexion. Some day I'll buy you another."
"Give me that bonnet, Laban Ginn!"
"I don't like to see that bonnet around, Zuby. Let's get it out of sight quick."
His wife sprang at the bonnet, but he barred her off with an arm like a fence-rail, removed a lid from the stove, put the unbecoming article in on the red-hot coals, and replaced the lid. "There!" he said, "that helps the scenery, don't it? Now let's have supper."
Captain Dan laughed again. For an instant Azuba stared, white-faced, at the cremation of the bonnet. Then she darted to the door. "I'll go now," she cried, "if I have to go bareheaded! I'll show you! Let go of me!"
Mr. Ginn had thrown an arm about her waist. She pulled his hair and gave him some vigorous slaps on the cheek, but he smiled on. "You want to get supper, Zuby," he coaxed. "I know you do. You just think it over now. It's too noisy out here to do much thinkin'. Where's a nice quiet place? Oh! this'll be first rate."
He bore her, kicking like a jumping-jack, across the kitchen to the closet where the pans and cooking utensils were kept. "Think it over in there, Zuby," he said calmly, shutting the door and planting himself in a chair against it. "That's a fine place to think. Now, Cap'n, you and me can have our smoke, while she's thinkin' what to give us to eat; hey?"
Judging by the thumps and kicks and screams inside the closet the housekeeper's thoughts were otherwise engaged.
"You let me out, Labe Ginn!" she screamed. "Cap'n Dott, you make him let me out!"
Daniel, weary from laughing, could only gasp.
"I can't, Zuba!" he answered, choking. "I can't! It ain't my affair. I couldn't interfere between husband and wife. You're a free woman, Zuba, you know. You ought to be advanced enough by this time to fight your own battles."
"That's right, Zuba," counseled Mr. Ginn. "Fight 'em out in there. You can be just as free in there as you want to. Have some of my terbacker, Cap'n?"
Captain Dan declined. The prisoner continued to thump and kick and threaten. Her jailer refilled and lighted his pipe.
"Thought over that bill of fare, Zuby?" he shouted, after a time.
More thumps and threats; tears as well. Daniel began to feel pity instead of triumph.
"Hadn't you better, Labe," he began. Mr. Ginn waved him to silence.
"How about supper, Zuby?" he called. "Oh, all right, all right. I don't know as I'm as hungry as I was, anyway. Appetite's kind of passin' off, I cal'late. You stay in there and think till mornin', and we'll have it for breakfast."
Silence--actual silence--for a moment. Then Azuba asked, in a half-smothered but much humbler voice, "Oh, Labe! WON'T you let me out?"
"Sure thing--if you've thought up that supper for me and Cap'n Dan'l."
"But I did so want--oh, if I could only tell you! It was SO necessary for me to go to that meetin'. You've spiled everything, and just as 'twas goin' so nice. What Gertie'll say I don't know."
Daniel developed a new interest.
"Gertie?" he repeated. "Hush, Labe! wait a minute. What's Gertie got to do with it?"
"Nothin', nothin'. Oh, Labe, PLEASE."
"Well, I tell you, Zuby: it's close to nine now, and that's too late for you to be cruisin' out to meetin's. Sorry you have to miss the speeches and things, but--Say, I tell you what I'll do. If it's a sermon you want I'll preach you one, myself. Make it up while you're settin' the table. Ready to come out and be good? That's right. Now, I bet you she's thought up somethin' that'll make our mouths water, Cap'n."
The crestfallen housekeeper emerged, blinking, from her thinking place. She removed her coat and, without even a glance at her employer, proceeded to adjust the dampers of the stove. Captain Dan rose from his chair.
"I'm afraid I can't stop to have supper with you, Labe," he said. "I've got an--an errand to do outside, myself. I'll eat at a restaurant or somewhere. You'll stay here to-night, of course. I'll see you in the mornin'. Good-night! Good-night, Zuby!"