The interruption was prompt and made with fiery indignation.
“I never thought of her money,” declared Albert. “I don't even know that she has any. If she has, I don't want it. I wouldn't take it. She is all I want.”
“Judgin' from the tone of her ma's last letter to me,” he observed, “she is all you would be liable to get. It don't read as if many--er--weddin' presents from the bride's folks would come along with her. But, there, there, Al don't get mad. I know this is a long ways from bein' a joke to you and, in a way, it's no joke for me. Course I had realized that some day you'd be figgerin', maybe, on gettin' married, but I did hope the figgerin' wouldn't begin for some years yet. And when you did, I rather hoped--well, I--I hoped. . . . However, we won't stop to bother with that now. Let's stick to this letter of Mrs. Fosdick's here. I must answer that, I suppose, whether I want to or not, to-day. Well, Al, you tell me, I understand that there has been nothin' underhand in your acquaintance with her daughter. Other than keepin' the engagement a secret, that is?”
“And you mean to stick by your guns and. . . . Well, what is it? Come in!”
There had been a knock upon the office door. In answer to his employer's summons, Mr. Keeler appeared. He held a card in his hand.
“Sorry to disturb you, Cap'n Lote,” he said. “Yes, I be, yes, sir. But I judged maybe 'twas somethin' important about the lumber for his house and he seemed anxious to see you, so I took the risk and knocked. Um-hm--yes, yes, yes.”
Captain Zelotes looked at the card. Then he adjusted his spectacles and looked again.
“Humph!” he grunted. “Humph! . . . We-ell, Labe, I guess likely you might show him in here. Wait just a minute before you do it, though. I'll open the door when I want him to come.”
“All right, Cap'n Lote. Yes, yes,” observed Mr. Keeler and departed. The captain looked thoughtfully at the card.
“Al,” he said, after a moment's reflection, “we'll have to cut this talk of ours short for a little spell. You go back to your desk and wait there until I call you. Hold on,” as his grandson moved toward the door of the outer office. “Don't go that way. Go out through the side door into the yard and come in the front way. There's--er--there's a man waitin' to see me, and--er--perhaps he'd better not see you first.”