Cap'n Dan's Daughter Part 63

"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. "n.o.body 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 him like a Gull on a sand ele. He sed Hungerford was a mene sneak and had treted him bad. He told me a Lot about how Hungerford worked you fokes for sukkers and how he helped. Seems him and Hungerford was old shipmates and chums and had worked your ant Laviny the same way. Hungerford used to pay him, but now that he is flat Broke and can't help no more, he won't give him a cent.

Hapgood says if you knew what he knows you'd be intterested. He says Hungerford pade him to get a hold of Tellygrams and letters that he thort you had better not see. He had one Coppy of a tellygram that he says come to him over the Tellyfone 3 days after John Doane left your house. I lent him a cupple of dollars and he gave me the Coppy. It is from John to Gertie, but she never got it becos Hapgood never told her.

I send it in this letter."

Captain Dan, who had read the latter part of this long paragraph with increasing excitement, now stopped his reading and began a hurried search for the "Coppy." He found it, on a separate sheet. It was written in pencil in Hapgood's neat, exact handwriting and was, compared to Mr.

Ginn's labored scrawl, very easy to read. And this was what the captain read:

"MISS GERTRUDE DOTT,

"No. -- Blank Avenue, "Scarford, Ma.s.s.

"Why haven't you written? Did you receive my letters? The firm are sending me on urgent business to San Francisco. I leave to-night. If you write me there I shall know all is well and you have not changed. If not I shall know the other thing. I shall hope for a letter. San Francisco address is--"

Then followed the address and the signature, "John Doane."

The "Coppy" dropped in Daniel's lap. He closed his eyes. Nate Bangs, glancing at him, judged that he was falling asleep, but Mr. Bangs's usually acute judgment was, in this instance, entirely wrong. So far from sleeping, the captain was just beginning to wake up.

"Why haven't you written?" That meant that John had never received the letter which Gertrude wrote, the letter which she had given him--her father--to post. Why had it not been received? It had been posted. He gave it to the carrier with his own hands.

Before the captain's closed eyes that scene in the library pa.s.sed in review. He was at his desk, Gertrude entered and handed him the letter.

He commented upon its address and placed it with the others, the envelopes containing bills and checks, upon the table. Then the postman came and--

No--wait. The postman had not come immediately. Serena had called and he, Daniel, had gone up to her room in answer to the call. But he had come down when the postman rang and.... Wait again! There had been someone in the library when he was called away. He dimly remembered....

What? ... Why, yes! Cousin Percy had come in and--

Daniel leaped to his feet. His chair slid back on its castors and struck the safe behind him. Mr. Bangs looked up.

"Why, what's the matter?" he cried, in alarm. "Is--Where are you going?"

Captain Dan did not answer. He was running, actually running, toward the door. Bareheaded he dashed across the yard. His foot was on the threshold of the back porch of the house, when he stopped short. For a moment he stood still; then he turned and ran back to the store again.

Nathaniel, who had followed him to the side entrance of The Metropolitan, met him there.

"For mercy sakes, Cap'n Dott!" he began. "What IS it?"

Daniel did not answer. He pushed past his perturbed manager and, rushing to the closet in which the telephone instrument hung, closed the door behind him. He jerked the receiver from the hook, placed it at his ear, and shouted into the transmitter.

"h.e.l.lo! h.e.l.lo there, Central!" he bellowed. "I want a long distance call. I want to talk to Saunders, Griffin and Company, Pearl Street, Boston.... Hey? ... Yes, I want to talk to Mr. Doane.... NO, not Cone!

Doane--Doane--Mr. John Doane.... Hey? ... You'll call me? ... All right, then; be as quick as you can, that's all."

He hung up the receiver and, flinging the door open, dashed out into the store again, and began pacing up and down.

Nathaniel ventured one more question.

"Of course it ain't any of my business, Cap'n Dott," he stammered, "but--"

Daniel waved his hand.