t get any supper to-night, Laban," she declared firmly. "I just
can't. I'm awful sorry, bein' as you've just got home, but you'll have
to forgive me. I'll explain when you and me are alone."

"Explain? Explain what?"

"Why--why--" with another look, almost vindictive, at the grinning
captain, "what my reason is. But I can't tell you now--I can't."

"That's all right. I don't care about explainin's. You can explain any
old time; just now, me and the cap'n want our supper."

"I shan't get your supper. I told Cap'n Dott I couldn't before I went
upstairs. I'm goin' out."

"No, no, you ain't. Quit your foolin', old lady. I'm gettin' emptier
every minute. So are you, ain't you, Cap'n?"

Daniel hesitated, looked at his housekeeper's face, and burst into a
roar of laughter. That laugh decided the question. Azuba rose.

"Don't talk to me," she snapped. "I'm sorry, but it serves you right,
Laban, for comin' home without sendin' me word; and just at the wrong
time, too. Give me that bonnet."

She reached for the bonnet, but her husband reached it first. "'Tain't
much of a bonnet, anyhow, Zuby," he said. "Now I look at it closer I
don't think it's becomin' to your style of complexion. Some day I'll buy
you another."

"Give me that bonnet, Laban Ginn!"

"I don't like to see that bonnet around, Zuby. Let's get it out of sight
quick."

His wife sprang at the bonnet, but he barred her off with an arm like a
fence-rail, removed a lid from the stove, put the unbecoming article
in on the red-hot coals, and replaced the lid. "There!" he said, "that
helps the scenery, don't it? Now let's have supper."

Captain Dan laughed again. For an instant Azuba stared, white-faced, at
the cremation of the bonnet. Then she darted to the door. "I'll go now,"
she cried, "if I have to go bareheaded! I'll show you! Let go of me!"

Mr. Ginn had thrown an arm about her waist. She pulled his hair and gave
him some vigorous slaps on the cheek, but he smiled on. "You want to get
supper, Zuby," he coaxed. "I know you do. You just think it over now.
It's too noisy out here to do much thinkin'. Where's a nice quiet place?
Oh! this'll be first rate."

He bore her, kicking like a jumping-jack, across the kitchen to the
closet where the pans and cooking utensils were kept. "Think it over in
there, Zuby," he said calmly, shutting the door and planting himself in
a chair against it. "That's a fine place to think. Now, Cap'n, you and
me can have our smok