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 flustered. "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