Cap'n Dan's Daughter Part 64

"Sshh! shh!" he commanded. "It's all right. I'll tell you by and by. But now I want to think. To think, by time!"

Ten minutes later the telephone bell rang.

"h.e.l.lo! Here is your Boston call," announced Central.

"All right! all right! Is this Saunders, Griffin and Company? ... Hey?

... Is Mr. Doane there?... What? I want to know! Is that you, John?

... This is Dott, speakin'.... Yes, Dan Dott.... No, no, of Trumet, not Scarford.... Yes.... YES.... Here! you let me do the talkin'; you listen."

Captain Dan ate scarcely any luncheon that day. He seemed to have lost his appet.i.te. This was a good deal of a loss and his wife commented upon it.

"What does ail you, Daniel?" she asked anxiously. "Why don't you eat?"

"Hey? Oh, I don't know, Serena. Don't feel hungry, somehow."

"Well, it's the first time you haven't been hungry since you came back to Trumet. I was beginning to think Azuba and I couldn't get enough for you TO eat. And now, all at once, you're not hungry. What does ail you?"

"Ail me? Nothin' ails me."

"Don't you feel well?"

"Never felt better in my life. Don't believe I ever felt quite so good."

"You act awfully queer."

"Do I? Don't you worry about me, Serena. My appet.i.te'll be back all right by dinner time. You want to lay in an extra stock for dinner. I'll probably eat you out of house and home then. Better figure on as much as if you was goin' to have company. Ain't that so, Zuba?"

He winked at the housekeeper. His wife noticed the wink.

"What is it?" she demanded. "There's something going on that I don't know about. Are you and Azuba planning some sort of surprise?"

"Surprise! What sort of surprise would Zuba and I plan? She's had one surprise in the last six weeks and that ought to be enough. Laban's droppin' in unexpected was surprise enough to keep you satisfied, wasn't it, Zuba? I never saw anybody more surprised than you was that night in the kitchen. Ho! ho!"

Azuba smiled grimly. "A few more surprises like that," she observed, "and I'll be surprised to death. Don't talk to ME about surprises."

"_I_ wasn't talkin' about 'em, 'twas Serena that started it."

Mrs. Dott was still suspicious. She turned to her daughter.

"Gertie," she asked, "do YOU know what your father is acting so ridiculous about? Is there a secret between you three?"

Gertrude had been very quiet and grave during the meal.

"No," she said. "There is no secret that I know of. Father is happy because we are back here in his beloved Trumet, I suppose."

"Humph! Well, his happiness hasn't interfered with his appet.i.te before.

There's something else; I'm sure of it. Why, Gertie! aren't you going to eat, either? You're not through luncheon!"

The young lady had risen from the table.

"You've eaten scarcely anything, Gertie," protested her mother. "I never saw such people. Are YOU so happy that you can't eat. Sit down."

Gertrude did not look happy. She did not sit down. Instead she hastily declared that she was not hungry, and left the room.

Serena stared after her.

"Was she crying, Daniel?" she asked. "She looked as if she was just going to. Ever since she came in from her walk she has been so downcast and sad. She won't talk and she hasn't smiled once. Daniel, has she said anything to you? Do you know what ails her?"

The captain shook his head.

"She and I had a little talk out in the store," he admitted. "I shouldn't wonder if she was thinkin' about--about--"

"About John, do you mean?"

"Maybe so."

"Did she talk with you about HIM? She won't let me mention his name.

Daniel, I feel SO bad about that. I'm afraid I was to blame, somehow. If we hadn't gone to Scarford--if ... Daniel, I'm going to her."

She rose. Her husband laid a hand on her arm.

"Sit down, Serena," he urged. "Sit down."

"But, Daniel, let me go. I must go to her. The poor girl! Perhaps I can comfort her, though how, I don't know. John Doane!" with a burst of indignation. "If I ever meet that young man I'll give him my opinion of his--"

"Sshh! shh! Serena! You sit down and finish your luncheon. Don't you worry about Gertie. And you needn't worry about her appet.i.te or mine.

I tell you what I'll do: If she and I don't have appet.i.te enough for dinner to-night--or breakfast to-morrow mornin', anyhow--I'll swallow that platter whole. There! A sight like that ought to be worth waitin'

for. Cheer up, old lady, and possess your soul in patience. This craft is just gettin' out of the doldrums. There's a fair wind and clear weather comin' for the Dott frigate, or I'm no sailor. You just trust me and wait. Yes, and let Gertie alone."

He positively refused to explain what he meant by this optimistic prophecy, or to permit his wife to go to their daughter. Gertrude went out soon afterward--for another walk, she said--and Serena retired to her room for the afternoon nap which the doctor had prescribed as part of her rest cure. For a time she could not sleep, but lay there wondering and speculating concerning her husband's strange words and his equally strange att.i.tude of confident and excited happiness. What did it mean? There was some secret she was sure; some good news for Gertrude; there must be. She, too, began to share the excitement and feel the confidence. Daniel had asked her to trust him, and she did trust him.

He, and not she, had been right in judging Mrs. Black and Cousin Percy, and Scarford, and all the rest. He had been right all through. She had reason to trust him; he was always right. With this comforting conclusion--one indication of the mental revolution which her Scarford experience had brought about--she ceased wondering and dropped to sleep.

Captain Dan and Azuba had a short conference in the kitchen.

"Understand, do you, Zuba?" queried the captain. "A late dinner and plenty of it."

"I understand. Land sakes! I ain't altogether a numskull or a young-one, even if I do have to be shut up in the closet to make me behave."

"Ho! ho! I expect you could have knocked my head off for bein' in the way just at that time."

"Humph!" with a one-sided smile, "I could have knocked my own off for not listenin' afore I come downstairs. If I'd heard Laban's voice I bet you I wouldn't have come. All I needed was a chance to be alone with him and explain what Gertie and I were up to."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't have the chance. I wouldn't have missed that show for somethin'. It beat all my goin' to sea, that did. How you did holler!"

He roared with laughter. Azuba watched him with growing impatience.

"Got through actin' like a Bedlamite?" she inquired tartly, when he stopped for breath. "If you have you can clear out and let me get to my dish-washin'."