“Give it to me!” he ordered. “'And it over now, or I'll bash you good and 'ard.”
Azuba merely smiled. “You'll bash nobody,” she declared. “You're a thief, that's what you are—a low-down thief. I've always cal'lated you was one, ever since I laid eyes on you; now I know it. Don't you dare shake your fist at me. If my husband was here he'd—”
Hapgood interrupted, savagely consigning the Ginns, both male and female, to a much hotter place than the kitchen. Captain Dan strode into the room.
“Here!” he said sharply. “What's all this? You,” addressing Hapgood, “what, do you mean by shakin' your fist at a woman?”
Mr. Hapgood's bluster collapsed, like a punctured toy balloon. He cringed instead.
“W'y, sir,” he pleaded, “it wasn't anything. I lost my temper a bit, sir, that's all. She”—with a malignant snarl at Azuba—“she's got a letter of mine. She stole it and won't give it up. I was angry, sir, same as any man would 'ave been, and I forgot myself. Make 'er 'and over my letter, sir.”
The captain turned to the defiant Mrs. Ginn.
“Have you got a letter of his, Zuba?” he demanded.
Azuba laughed. “I have,” she declared, “and I'm glad of it. I've been waiting to get somethin' like it for a long spell. Stealin'! HE accuse anybody of stealin'! Here, Daniel Dott, you read that letter. Read it and see who's been doin' the stealin' around here.”
She extended the letter at arm's length. The butler made a snatch at it, but Captain Dan was too quick. He unfolded the crumpled sheet of paper. It bore the printed name and address of one of Scarford's newer and more recently established grocers and provision dealers, and read as follows: