Cap'n Dan's Daughter Part 42

"Pounding you! I've been pounding and shaking you for goodness knows how long. I began to think you were dead. Wake up! Don't you hear the bell?"

Daniel, still but two-thirds awake, rolled over, raised himself on his elbow and grunted, "Bell! What bell?"

"The door bell. Someone's at the door. Don't you hear them?"

Captain Dan slid out of bed. His bare feet struck the cold floor beneath the open window and he was wide awake at last. The room was pitch dark, so morning had not come, and yet someone WAS at the door, the front door. The bell was ringing steadily and the ringer was varying the performance by banging the door with his feet. The captain fumbled for the b.u.t.ton, found and pressed it, and the electric light blazed.

"For mercy sakes!" he grumbled, glancing at his watch hanging beside the head of the bed, "it's quarter past one. Who in time is turnin' us out this time of night?"

Serena, nervous and frightened--she, too, had been aroused from a sound sleep--answered sharply.

"I don't know," she snapped. "It's something important though, or they wouldn't do it. Hurry up and find out, can't you? I never saw such a man!"

Her husband hastened to the closet, found his slippers and bathrobe--the latter was a recent addition to his wardrobe, bought because his wife had learned that B. Phelps Black possessed no less than three bathrobes--and shuffled out into the hall. The bell had awakened other members of the household. A light shone under the door of John Doane's room, and from Gertrude's apartment his daughter's voice demanded to know what was the matter.

Daniel announced that he didn't know, but cal'lated to find out, and shuffled down the stairs. The lights in the hall and drawing-room were still burning, Gertrude and John having forgotten to extinguish them.

Captain Dan unlocked the front door and flung it open. A uniformed messenger boy was standing on the steps.

"Telegram for John Doane," announced the boy. "Any answer?"

Daniel seized the proffered envelope. "How in time do I know whether there's any answer or not?" he demanded pettishly. "I ain't read it yet, have I? Think I've got second sight? Why in the nation didn't you ring up on the telephone, instead of comin' here and routin' out the neighborhood?"

The boy grinned. "Against the rules," he said. "Can't send telegrams by 'phone unless we have special orders."

"Well, I give you orders then. Next time you telephone. Hold on a minute now. John! oh, John!"

Mr. Doane, partially dressed, his coat collar turned up to hide the absence of linen, was already at the head of the stairs, and descending.

"Coming, Captain Dott," he said. "For me, is it?"

"Yes. A telegram for you. What--good land, Gertie! you up, too?"

Gertrude, in kimono and cap, was leaning over the rail. "What is it?"

she asked quickly.

John announced, "A wire for me," he said. "I'm afraid--" He tore open the envelope. "Yes, I thought so. Mr. Griffin is worse and they want me at once. Every minute counts, they say. I must go--now. When is the next train for Boston, Captain?"

Daniel was very much fl.u.s.tered. "I don't know," he stammered. "There's a time-table around on deck somewheres, but--you ain't goin' now, John?

To-night?"

"Yes, I must."

Gertrude hastened to find the time-table. John turned to the messenger.

"Know anything about Boston trains?" he asked.

"Yup. Two-twenty express through from New York. That's the next."

John stepped to the drawing-room and looked at the clock. "I can get it, I think," he announced. "I must. If I can get a cab--"

"I'll 'phone for one. But--but, John, you hadn't ought to--"

"Any answer?" demanded the messenger boy, intent on business.

"Yes. Say that I am leaving on the two-twenty. On the two-twenty. Got that, have you?"

"Sure, Mike! Prepay or collect?"

"I'll--I'll pay it, John." Captain Dan reached under his bathrobe.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "I declare I forgot I didn't have on--All right, John, I'll pay it. You go get ready."

Mr. Doane was on his way to his room. Daniel hurried after him, a difficult progress, for the slippers and bathrobe made hurrying decidedly clumsy. He located his trousers and the loose change in their pockets, explaining the situation to Serena as he did so. He and his wife descended the stairs together. The captain paid the messenger and hastened to telephone for the cab.

When the vehicle arrived, John was ready. His farewells to Daniel and Serena were hurried ones.

"I'm awfully sorry I can't stop longer," he declared. "I really shouldn't have come at all, under the circ.u.mstances. I--"

He paused. Gertrude was standing by the door. She was very grave and her eyes looked as if she had not slept. John went over to her; he, too, was grave.

"Gertie," he faltered, "Gertie--"

Serena interrupted. "Daniel!" she said, "Daniel!"

The captain looked at her. She frowned and motioned with her head. The light of understanding dawned in her husband's eyes.

"Hey? Oh, yes!" he cried hastily. "Come into the front room, Serena, just a minute. I want to speak to you."

They entered the drawing-room together. Gertrude and John were alone.

For a moment neither spoke. Then the young man, bending forward, whispered: "Gertie," he asked anxiously, "aren't you--haven't you anything to say to me?"

"I thought, perhaps, you had something to say to me, John."

"I have. Gertie, I--"

There was a sound from above. Cousin Percy Hungerford, fully dressed and debonnair as always, was descending the stairs.

"What's the row?" he drawled. "I heard the racket and decided the house must be on fire. What's up?"

Whatever else was "up" it was quite plain John was sorry that Mr.

Hungerford was up because of it. His tone was decidedly chilly as he answered.

"A wire for me," he said shortly. "I'm called to Boston at once."

"Really! How extraordinary! It wasn't a fire then, merely a false alarm.

Sorry to have you go, Doane, I'm sure."

He spoke as if he were the host whose gracious pleasure it had been to entertain the guest during the latter's stay. John resented the tone.