Capn Dans Daughter | Page 4

"Hold on! don't get het up again. Keep cool, Zuba, keep cool! Think of
that dish water; it's gettin' cooler every minute."
The answer to this was an indignant snort followed by the bang of the
door. Azuba had gone. Captain Daniel looked after her, smiled faintly,
shook his head, and again turned his attention to the letter in his hand.
He did not open it immediately. Instead he sat regarding it with the
same haggard, hopeless expression which he had worn when he first
read the firm's name upon the envelope. He dreaded, perhaps, as much
as he had ever dreaded anything in his life, to open that envelope.
He was sure, perfectly sure, what he should find when he did open it. A
letter from the legal representatives of Smith and Denton, the Boston
hat manufacturers and dealers, stating that, unless the latter's account
was paid within the next week, suit for the amount due would be
instituted in the courts. A law suit! a law suit for the collection of a debt
against him, Daniel Dott, the man who had prided himself upon his
honesty! Think of what it would mean! the disgrace of it! the
humiliation, not only for himself but for Serena, his wife, and Gertrude,
his daughter!
He did not blame Smith and Denton; they had been very kind, very

lenient indeed. The thirty-day credit originally given him had been
extended to sixty and ninety. They had written him many times, and
each time he had written in reply that as soon as collections were better
he should be able to pay in full; that he had a good deal of money owed
him, and as soon as it came in they should have it. But it did not come
in. No wonder, considering that it was owed by the loafers and
ne'er-do-wells of the town and surrounding country, who, because no
one else would trust them, bestowed their custom upon good-natured,
gullible Captain Dan. The more recent letters from the hat dealers had
been sharper and less kindly. They had ceased to request; they
demanded. At last they had threatened. And now the threat was to be
fulfilled.
The captain laid the envelope down upon the open ledger, rose, and,
going to the front of the store, carefully closed the door. Then, going to
the door communicating with the other half of the store, he made sure
that no one was in the adjoining room. He had a vague feeling that all
the eyes in Trumet were regarding him with suspicion, and he wished
to shut out their accusing gaze. He wanted to be alone when he read
that letter. He had half a mind to take it to the cellar and open it there.
His fingers shook as he tore the end from the envelope. They shook still
more as he drew forth the enclosure, a typewritten sheet, and held it to
the light. He read it through to the end. Then, with a loud exclamation,
almost a shout, he rushed to the side door, flung it open and darted
across the yard, the letter fluttering from his fingers like a flag. The
store was left unguarded, but he forgot that.
He stumbled up the steps into the kitchen. Azuba, a saucer in one hand
and the dish towel in the other, was, to say the least, startled. As she
expressed it afterward, "the everlastin' soul was pretty nigh scart out of
her." The saucer flew through the air and lit upon the top of the
cookstove.
"What--what--what--" stammered Azuba. "Oh, my land! WHAT is it?"
"Where's Serena?" demanded Captain Daniel, paying no attention to
the saucer, except to tread upon the fragments.
"Hey? Oh, what IS it? Is the store afire?"
"No, no! Where's Serena?"
"She--she--what--"
"Where's SERENA, I ask you?"

"In her room, I cal'late. For mercy sakes, what--"
But the captain did not answer. Through dining-room, sitting-room, and
parlor he galloped, and up the front stairs to the bedroom occupied by
himself and wife. Mrs. Dott was standing before the mirror, red-faced
and panting, both arms behind her and her fingers busily engaged. Her
husband's breath was almost gone by the time he reached the foot of the
stairs; consequently his entrance was a trifle less noisy and startling
than his sky-rocket flight through the kitchen. It is doubtful if his wife
would have noticed even if it had been. She caught a glimpse of him in
the mirror, and heaved a sigh of relief.
"Oh, it's you, is it!" she panted. "My, I'm glad! For mercy sakes fasten
those last three hooks; I'm almost distracted with 'em."
But the hooks remained unfastened for the time. Captain Dan threw
himself into a chair and waved the letter.
"Serena," he cried, puffing