Down the walk from the barn Ezra was at this moment coming, shoulders bent against the storm, hat-brim trickling water. The rain was now slashing viciously, in pelting ribbons of gray water that drummed on the tin roof of the kitchen and danced in spatters on the walk.
Filhiol opened the door for Ezra, who peeled off his coat, and shook his wet hands.
“Great, creepin’ clams!” he puffed. “But this is some tidy wind, sir! These here Massachusetts storms can’t be beat, the way they pounce. An’ rain! Say! Must be a picnic somewhere nigh. Never rains like this unless there _is_ one!”
The old man tried to smile, but joviality was lacking. He closed the door and came over to the stove. The doctor followed him.
“Ezra,” said he, “you don’t like me. No matter. You _do_ like Captain Briggs, don’t you?”
“That ain’t a question as needs answerin’,” returned Ezra, with suspicious eyes.
“I like the captain, too,” continued Filhiol. “We’ve got to join hands to help him. And he’s in very, very serious trouble now.”
“Well, what is it?” The old servitor sensed what was in the wind, and braced himself to meet it.
“If it came to choosing between Hal and the captain, which would you stand by?”
“That’s another question that ain’t needed!” retorted Ezra defiantly.
“It’s got to be answered, though. Something critical has happened, Ezra, and we’ve got to take the bull by the horns.”
“Better take the bull by the tail, doctor. Then you can let go without hollerin’ fer help.”
“This is no time for joking, Ezra! Something has happened that, if the captain finds it out, will have terrible consequences. If he discovers what’s happened, I can’t answer for the consequences. It might even kill him, the shock might.”
“Wha—what d’ you mean, sir?” demanded Ezra, going white. “What _are_ you gammin’ about, anyhow?”
“I might as well tell you, directly. Captain Briggs has just been robbed of more than five hundred dollars.”
“Robbed,” asserted Filhiol. “More than five hundred dollars are gone from the safe, and—Hal’s gone, too.”
“Dr. Filhiol, sir!” exclaimed the old man passionately, but in a low voice that could not reach the cabin. “That wun’t go here. You’re company, I know, but there’s some things that goes too doggone fur. Ef you mean to let on that Master Hal—”