His expression changed. He looked down at her and smiled. “That's right, old lady,” he admitted. “I had you, and thank the Almighty for it. Yes, I had you . . . But,” his anger returning, “when I think how that damned scamp stole our girl from us and then neglected her and killed her--” “ZELOTES! How you talk! He DIDN'T kill her. How can you!” “Oh, I don't mean he murdered her, of course. But I'll bet all I've got that he made her miserable. Look here, Mother, you and she used to write back and forth once in a while. In any one of those letters did she ever say she was happy?” Mrs. Snow's answer was somewhat equivocal. “She never said she was unhappy,” she replied. Her husband sniffed and resumed his pacing up and down. After a little Olive spoke again. “New York IS a good ways,” she said. “Maybe 'twould be better for you to meet this lawyer man in Boston. Don't you think so?” “Bah!” Another interval. Then: “Zelotes?” “Yes,” impatiently. “What is it?” “It's her boy, after all, isn't it? Our grandson, yours and mine. Don't you think--don't you think it's your duty to go, Zelotes?” Captain Lote stamped his foot. “For thunderation sakes, Olive, let up!” he commanded. “You ought to know by this time that there's one thing I hate worse than doin' my duty, that's bein' preached to about it. Let up! Don't you say another word.” She did not, having learned much by years of experience. He said the next word on the subject himself. At noon, when he came home for dinner, he said, as they rose from the table: “Where's my suitcase, up attic?” “Why, yes, I guess likely 'tis. Why?” Instead of answering he turned to the housekeeper, Mrs. Ellis. “Rachel,” he said, “go up and get that case and fetch it down to the bedroom, will you? Hurry up! Train leaves at half-past two and it's 'most one now.” Both women stared at him. Mrs. Ellis spoke first. “Why, Cap'n Lote,” she cried; “be you goin' away?” Her employer's answer was crisp and very much to the point. “I am if I can get that case time enough to pack it and make the train,” he observed. “If you stand here askin' questions I probably shall stay to home.” The housekeeper made a hasty exit by way of the back stairs. Mrs. Snow still gazed wonderingly at her husband. “Zelotes,” she faltered, “are you--are you--” “I'm goin' to New York on to-night's boat. I've telegraphed that--that Weiss--Weiss--what-do-you-call-it--that Portygee lawyer--that I'll be to his office to-morrow mornin'.” “But, Zelotes, we haven't scarcely talked about it, you and I, at all. You might have waited till he came to Boston. Why do you go so SOON?” The captain's heavy brows drew together. “You went to the dentist's last Friday,” he said. “Why didn't you wait till next week?” “Why--why, what a question! My tooth ached and I wanted to have it fixed quick as possible.”