“Oh, oh, John'll be along pretty soon, I shouldn't wonder,” he said hastily. “He--he's pretty busy these days, I suppose.”
“Nice thing his bein' taken into the firm, after Mr. Griffin died, wasn't it. Well, he's a pretty smart fellow, John is, and he deserves to get ahead. Did he tell you the particulars about it?”
“No. No, not all of 'em. Is that a customer in the other room?”
Mr. Bangs hurried away to attend to the customer. The captain seized the opportunity to make a timely exit. He went into the house, remained a while with his wife, and then returned. Nathaniel had gone on an order-taking trip and Sam Bartlett, the boy, was in charge. Just as Daniel entered the store from the side door Gertrude came in at the front.
“Not quite, but I'd just as soon be. Sam, go into the other room; I'll hail you if I need you. Gertie, come here. I want to have a talk with you.”
Gertrude came. She took her old position, perching upon the arm of her father's chair, with her own arm about his neck.
“Gertie,” began the captain, “what would you think of my makin' Nate Bangs a partner in this concern?”
Gertrude uttered an exclamation of delight.
“Splendid!” she cried. “Just what I wanted you to do. I thought of it, but I said nothing because I wanted you to say it first. It will be just the right thing.”
“Ye-es, so it seemed to me. All that's good here in this store is due to Nathaniel. He's made a real, live business out of a remains that was about ready for the undertaker. I ought to give him the whole craft, but--but I hate to.”
“You could. You could sell out to him and still have sufficient income to live upon in comfort here in Trumet. You might sell out, retire, and be a gentleman of leisure, one of the town's rich men. You could do that perfectly well.”
“Don't talk that way,” he repeated. “I've had enough gentleman of leisure foolishness to last me through. What do you think I am; a second-hand copy of Cousin Percy, without the gilt edges? _I_ might be kissin' Zuba by mistake if I did that.”
The story of that eventful evening and the “mistake” had been told him by his daughter since the return home. Gertrude smiled.
“I guess not,” she declared. “You are not in the habit of 'dining out'--in Trumet, at any rate. Have you told Mother?”