Cap'n Dan's Daughter Part 45

"I know you will," she said. "Of course, I had rather be president of Scarford Chapter than anything else in the world, but--"

And then Annette had an idea. She clasped her hands.

"You shall be," she cried. "You shall be. Not this term, but the next--the very next. This term I shall be president, and you--YOU shall be vice-president. With you as our candidate we can beat that Canby creature to death. Oh, lovely! It is an inspiration."

And on that basis it was settled. The opposing tickets were Black and Dott against Canby and a lady by the name of Saunderson, another of Mrs.

Lake's "dear friends." The Chapter was racked from end to end. Politics became the daily food of its members.

For Serena it was almost the only food. She was too busy to eat, except at odd times and hurriedly, and she slept less than ever. Her nervousness increased and she lost weight. Daniel was worried concerning her health and would have mentioned his worriment to Gertrude had not that young lady's mental state and behavior worried him almost as much.

Gertrude, for the first week after John Doane's departure, was depressed and silent and solemn. Once, her father found her in her room, crying and when he anxiously asked the reason she bade him go away and leave her, so sharply and in a tone so unlike her, that he went without further protestation. He did, however, go to Serena for advice.

"Oh, I don't know," said Serena impatiently. "She misses John, I suppose. She thought he was going to stay and he didn't, and she was disappointed. Don't bother me! Don't! I've checked this voting list over three times already and it has come out different each time. I'm so tired and headachy and nervous I think I shall die. Sometimes I don't care if I do. Go away."

"But, Serena, there's--there's somethin' queer about Gertie and John.

I don't believe she's heard from him since he left. I don't believe she has."

"Then, why doesn't she write and find out what is the matter? Perhaps he's sick."

"Maybe so, but perhaps she don't want to write. Perhaps she's waitin'

for him to do it."

"He can't write if he's sick, can he? Why don't she telegraph him?"

"That would be just the same, the way she may look at it."

"Then wire him yourself, why don't you? Oh, please go away--PLEASE.

I'll speak to her, Daniel, when I get time; I was going to. But just now I--oh, my POOR head!"

Daniel made up his mind to telegraph Doane that very afternoon, but he did not. A happening in the household prevented him. Mr. Hapgood was summarily discharged.

Azuba was responsible for the affair. Serena was out--"committeeing" as usual--Gertrude was with her. Mr. Hungerford, also, was absent. Captain Dan, in the library, dolefully musing in an arm chair, heard a violent altercation in the kitchen. As it did not cease, but became more violent, he hastened to the scene.

Azuba was standing in the middle of the kitchen, her back against the table, facing the butler. Mr. Hapgood's face was red, his fists were clenched, and he was shaking one of them under the housekeeper's nose.

"Give it to me!" he ordered. "'And it over now, or I'll bash you good and 'ard."

Azuba merely smiled. "You'll bash n.o.body," she declared. "You're a thief, that's what you are--a low-down thief. I've always cal'lated you was one, ever since I laid eyes on you; now I know it. Don't you dare shake your fist at me. If my husband was here he'd--"

Hapgood interrupted, savagely consigning the Ginns, both male and female, to a much hotter place than the kitchen. Captain Dan strode into the room.

"Here!" he said sharply. "What's all this? You," addressing Hapgood, "what, do you mean by shakin' your fist at a woman?"

Mr. Hapgood's bl.u.s.ter collapsed, like a punctured toy balloon. He cringed instead.

"W'y, sir," he pleaded, "it wasn't anything. I lost my temper a bit, sir, that's all. She"--with a malignant snarl at Azuba--"she's got a letter of mine. She stole it and won't give it up. I was angry, sir, same as 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 s.n.a.t.c.h 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--"