"Well," said she, evidently wishing not to compromise me, "the doctor says you mustn't have either."
"Great ——! what doctor said so? Who told you the doctor said so? Why did he say I should not have pie or coffee?" he shouted.
"Because he says you are crazy," she hesitatingly answered.
"Great Heavens! girl; it's you that's crazy!" and slamming his fist on the table, and jumping to his feet, he demanded an explanation instantly.
The girl ran to the kitchen, and the Doctor after her. The rest fled for their lives, screaming at the top of their voices and scattering in all directions. Some ran into the yard, some up stairs, and the poor frightened girl who had attempted to take his order took refuge in the cellar, the Doctor after her, yelling at the top of his voice, still demanding an explanation. He barricaded the cellar-way by swinging his cane and banging it against a tin wash-boiler near the entrance, and declared that the girl never should see daylight again unless she revealed the source of her information.
It was now about one o'clock, and the landlady had arrived on the noon train; and, after locating her newly painted hotel, came in just in time to catch us in the heat of the excitement, and the Doctor in the cellar in the midst of his controversy.
She demanded an explanation, and became very nervous when the cook excitedly told her that the Doctor had gone raving crazy, and had driven one of the girls down cellar.
She asked me why I didn't go down after him. I told her I didn't dare to.
Directly he came stamping up the stairs, swearing at the top of his voice, and said he just expected it was the work of that cussed red-headed d——l.