Capn Dans Daughter | Page 7

I forgot the store altogether. Sam
hadn't got back from breakfast and I left the store all alone. I must be
crazy!"
He bolted from the room and down the stairs, the legacy forgotten for
the moment, and in his mind pictures of rifled showcases and youthful
Trumet regaling itself with chocolates at his expense. Azuba shrieked
another question as her employer once more rushed through the kitchen,
but again her question was unanswered. She hurried to the window and
watched him running across the yard.
"Well!" she exclaimed, in alarmed soliloquy. "WELL, the next time I
fetch that man a letter I'll fetch the doctor along with it. Has the world
turned upside down, or what is the matter?"
She might have made a worse guess. The Dott world was turning
upside down; this was the beginning of the revolution.

CHAPTER II
Captain Dan's fears concerning the safety of his showcases were
groundless. Even as he sprang up the steps to the side door of his place
of business, he heard familiar voices in the store. He recognized the
voices, and, halting momentarily to wipe his forehead with his
handkerchief and to regain some portion of his composure and his
breath, he walked in.
Gertrude, his daughter, was seated in his chair by the desk, and John

Doane was leaning upon the desk, talking with her. In the front of the
store, Sam Bartlett, the boy, who had evidently returned from breakfast,
was doing nothing in particular, and doing it with his usual air of
enjoyment. It was only when required to work that Sam was unhappy.
Gertrude looked up as her father entered; prior to that she had been
looking at the blotter on the desk. John Doane, who had been looking at
Gertrude, also changed the direction of his gaze. Captain Dan struggled
with the breath and the composure.
"Why, Dad!" exclaimed Gertrude. "What is it?"
"What's the matter, Cap'n Dott?" asked Mr. Doane.
Daniel did his best to appear calm; it was a poor best. At fifty- two one
cannot run impromptu hurdle races against time, and show no effects.
"Hey?" he panted. "Matter? Nothin's the matter. I left the store alone
for a minute and I was in a kind of hurry to get back to it, that's all."
The explanation was not entirely satisfactory. Gertrude looked more
puzzled than ever.
"A minute," she repeated. "Left it a minute! Why, John and I have been
here fifteen minutes, and Sam was here when we came."
The captain looked at his watch. "Well, maybe 'twas a little more'n a
minute," he admitted.
Master Bartlett sauntered up to take part in the conversation.
"I got here twenty minutes ago," he observed, grinning, "and you wasn't
here then, Cap'n Dan'l. I was wonderin' what had become of ye."
Daniel seized the opportunity to change the subject.
"Anybody been in since you came?" he asked, addressing Sam.
"No, nobody special. Abel Calvin was in to see if you wanted to buy

some beach plums for puttin' up. He said he had about a bushel of
first-rate ones, just picked."
"Beach plums! What in time would I want of beach plums? I don't put
up preserves, do I? Why didn't he go to the house?"
"I asked him that, myself, and he said 'twa'n't no use."
"No use! What did he mean by that?"
"Well, he said--he said--" Sam seemed suddenly to realize that he was
getting into deep water; "he said--he said somethin' or other; I guess
I've forgot what 'twas."
"I guess you ain't. WHAT did he say?"
"Well, he said--he said Serena--Mrs. Dott, I mean--was probably
gallivantin' down to the lodge room by this time. Said 'twa'n't no use
tryin' to get her to attend to common things or common folks nowadays;
she was too busy tryin' to keep up with Annette Black."
This literal quotation from the frank Mr. Calvin caused a sensation.
Captain Dan struggled to find words. His daughter laid a hand on his
sleeve.
"Never mind, Dad," she said, soothingly. "You know what Abel Calvin
is; you don't mind what he says. Sam, you shouldn't repeat such
nonsense. Run away now and attend to your work. I'm sure there's
enough for you to do."
"You--you go and clean up the cellar," ordered the irate captain. Sam
departed cellarward, muttering that it wasn't his fault; HE hadn't said
nothin'. Gertrude spoke again.
"Don't mind that, Dad," she urged. "Why, how warm you are, and how
excited you look. What is it? You haven't spoken a word to John."
Her father shook his head. "Mornin', John," he said. "I beg your pardon.
I ain't responsible to-day, I shouldn't wonder. I--I've had some news

that's drivin' everything else out of my mind."
"News? Why, Dad! what do you