Jess of the Rebel Trail Part 37

"Because she was wilful, and wanted her own way; that's why."

"H'm," the captain grunted, "so that's how ye look at it?"

"And why shouldn't I? But what has all this to do with the finding of my daughter? I didn't come here to be catechised in this way."

"Well, I didn't tell ye to come, Mister. If ye don't like yer reception, ye kin leave whenever ye want to. No one'll interfere with yer goin', an' the door's right thar."

Henry Randall was unused to such plain speech, and it angered him. So accustomed had he been to having his own way and lording it over others that this was an unusual experience and hard for him to endure. His face darkened and he looked sternly at the captain.

"I am not in the habit of allowing people to speak to me in such a manner," he declared. "I can make you pay dearly for your impudence.

Do you know who I am?"

"Sartinly I know, an' that's why I'm talkin' jist as I am. I don't very often git roused up, but when I do it takes more'n you to stop me.

An' I am roused at the way ye've treated that gal ye call yer daughter.

Ye've been buyin' an sellin' so long that yer heart is nuthin' more'n a bank account. An' ye weren't satisfied with tradin' in lumber, but ye even want to sell yer only daughter. Thar, now, don't git riled. Jist keep cool fer a few minutes 'til I'm through. If yer tired standin', ye kin set down. Flo, give this feller a chair."

"I don't want a chair," Randall angrily retorted. "I want to get through with my business here. I ask you once more if my daughter sought refuge on board your boat the night she was supposed to have drowned herself off Benton's wharf?"

"Didn't I tell ye that I never sot eyes on her?"

"You lie, Captain Tobin. I have definite proof that a girl was aboard your boat when you reached the stone quarry, and that she was later injured on the head by a stone, and brought by a young man, John Hampton by name, to his home. Can you deny that?"

The excitement of Mrs. Tobin and Flo was now intense. They stared in speechless amazement, first at Randall and then at the captain.

"Why don't ye go an' git her, then, if she's with John Hampton?" the captain asked. "What are ye doin' here if yer so sartin about the matter?"

"I'm here because there's n.o.body home there. I visited Mrs. Hampton on my way up the road, and she told me that my daughter had never been at her house. She said a girl had been injured at the quarry, but it was her own daughter. She suggested that I go to the quarry and make inquiries, which I did. I learned enough there to satisfy me that Mrs.

Hampton lied to me, and that the girl who came up the river with you and who was afterwards hurt is my daughter. And then when I come back, I find the Hampton house closed, and no one at home. That's the situation, and it's enough to drive a man crazy."

"It sartinly is most puzzlin'," the captain agreed. "Strange, Martha, isn't it?" and he turned to his wife. "But, then, perhaps they've all gone fer a car ride. It's a fine night fer a spin."

"But Mrs. Hampton told me that her son would most likely be home when I came back from the quarry," Randall explained. "It seems to me that I am being deceived and checked on all sides. I wonder what is the reason?"

"The reason, sir, is very clear," Mrs. Tobin replied. "The sympathy of all is with your daughter because of the way you have treated her. I admire her for what she did."

"Madame, madame, I am astonished at you," Randall declared.

"You needn't be astonished at all, sir. I have listened to this conversation, and see things in a new light. I could not understand my husband's actions a few days ago, but now it is nearly all explained.

Sam'l," and she turned to her husband, "did you have this man's daughter on board the 'Eb and Flo' the day you sailed by here without stopping?"

"No, Martha, I did not," was the emphatic reply.

Mrs. Tobin looked at the captain for a few seconds in silence. Then she detected a peculiar expression in his eyes, and at once surmised its meaning.

"But, Sam'l, did you have a girl on board?"

"Yes, Martha, I did."

"Then you have been lying."

"No, I haven't. This man asked me if I had his daughter on board, an'

I told him I didn't. That gal might have been his daughter once, but she isn't now. Any man who would treat a gal the way this man treated that beautiful creature who tumbled into the cabin of the 'Eb and Flo'

has no right to call her his daughter, so thar."

"What fool-talk is this?" Randall impatiently asked. "I know now that it was my daughter you had on board your boat. What you think about my actions doesn't worry me in the least. Your quibbling is childish and unbecoming to a man of your age. You will change your tune, though, let me tell you that, when you are called upon to face the charge of being involved in my daughter's wild escapade."

"Go ahead, Mister, go ahead. Whenever ye want me, jist sing out."

"Oh, I shall sing out, all right. You needn't think I'm bluffing.

When I undertake a thing I carry it through."

"An' I s'pose ye'll carry through the persecution of that gal ye call yer daughter?"

"What do you mean?"

"Ye'll force her to marry that Lord's son, the feller with the wobbly knees an' brainless head?"

"Yes, I am determined that she shall marry Lord Donaster's son. My mind is made up to that, and nothing can change it."

"But ye haven't got yer daughter yit."

"Oh, that's merely a matter of time. She may escape me for a while, but I shall get her sooner or later."

"But s'pose somebody else gits her first?"

"You mean young Hampton?" Randall somewhat anxiously asked.

"I sartinly do. He's hot on her trail, an' it looks to me as if they're mighty fond of each other. Mebbe they're off now to be hitched up. Ye kin never tell what notions young people'll take."

"Then I'll tear them apart," Randall angrily declared. "My daughter shall never remain the wife of an ignorant country clown. But I don't believe she would go that far. No doubt she is hiding somewhere. Have you any idea where that might be?"

"I don't believe she's on board the 'Eb an' Flo' this time. Ye'll have to hunt elsewhere."

"And I shall. I've lost too much time already, and I should be in the city by now. I have an important business engagement there. Confound it all!"

Without another word he turned and strode out of the house, slamming the front door after him. There was silence in the room for a brief s.p.a.ce, broken at last by the captain's chuckle of amus.e.m.e.nt.

"Ho, ho," he laughed, "that feller got a dose to-night, didn't he?

What d'ye say, Martha? Got a big hand-out fer me now?"

"No, Sam'l," was the quiet reply. "I really can't scold you this time.

You did what was right in saving that poor girl from such a brutal father. But why didn't you tell me about it?"

The captain shuffled uneasily, although his eyes twinkled.

"I was really afraid to, Martha," he confessed. "But I was wrong.

I'll never do sich a thing agin. The next gal who flops herself aboard the 'Eb an' Flo,' I'll bring straight home fer you to look after."

"For pity's sake, Sam'l, I hope you'll never get into such a sc.r.a.pe again. And you are not out of this one yet, from all appearance. Mr.