. Don't let your
wife or Gertrude--Gertie, especially--get in with that crowd. They don't
belong there. And there's something else."

He hesitated. Daniel, trembling with anxiety, urged him to continue.

"What is it?" he begged. "What is the somethin' else?"

"Oh, nothing. It isn't my business anyhow. I ought to keep still."

"Keep still! After sayin' as much as you have? You go ahead or I'll
shake it out of you one word at a time. Heave ahead now! I'm waitin'."

"Well, then, don't get mad. Remember I'm saying it merely as a friend.
Is Gertie engaged to be married?"

"Sartin she is. To a fine fellow, too. What of it?"

"Why, this: If she is engaged why is she trotting about with this
precious cousin of yours--this Percy Hungerford?"

Captain Dan started violently. He had asked himself that very question
many times during the week which had just passed. To have someone else
ask it, however, was too much. He bristled up like an angry cat.

"By Godfreys!" he sputtered, "what do you mean? Do you mean to hint--"

"I'm not hinting anything. Be quiet, or I'll stop right here. What do
you know about Hungerford, anyway? Why is he here at your house?"

"Here! Why--why, he's here 'cause we asked him to stay. He's on his
vacation and he's just makin' us a visit. As to knowin' anything about
him, what do you mean by that? Do YOU know anything about him?"

"Not much. Neither does anyone else; that's the queer part of it. While
old lady Dott--your Aunt Lavinia--occupied this house, he was here a
good deal. He didn't do anything then, except to be a general high-flyer
around town with a few chums like Monty Holway, who is another gay young
bird with money. After Mrs. Dott went abroad to live, he left Scarford
and went to Providence a while; after that to Boston and New York, and
various places. He had the reputation of being something of a sport,
and in with a fast set. Now, all at once, he comes back here and settles
down on--with you and your wife. What did he do that for?"

"I--I don't know. He didn't intend to settle. Says he didn't, anyway. As
for bein' a sport--well, he's told us about that, told Serena the whole
yarn. He owned up that he never took life very seriously while Aunt
Laviny lived; had plenty of money and didn't have to. But now it's
different. He's realized that he must work, same as other folks, and
he's doin' it. He works for some magazine or other, doin' what he calls
literary work."

"Humph! What m