“So I'm fired, am I?” he demanded. “Fired, without no notice or nothin'. 'Ow about my two weeks' wages? 'Ow about square treatment? 'Ow about my things upstairs? I've got rights, I 'ave, and you'll find it out. Blame your eyes, I—”
He darted through the doorway just in time. Captain Dan was on the threshold.
“You can send for your things upstairs,” said the captain. “They'll be ready—either up there or on the sidewalk. Now, my—hum—thief,” with deliberate and dangerous calmness, “I'm comin' out into that yard. If I was you I'd be somewhere else when I get there. That's my advice.”
The advice was taken. Mr. Hapgood was in the street by the time his employer reached the gate. Bolting that gate, Daniel walked back to the kitchen.
“Thank you, Zuba,” he said quietly. “You've only confirmed what I suspected before, but thank you, just the same.”
Azuba was regarding him with a surprise in which respect was strongly mingled.
“You're welcome,” she said drily. “It's good riddance to bad rubbish, that's what I call it. But,” her surprise getting the better of her judgment, “I must say I ain't seen you behave—I mean—”
She stopped, the judgment returning. But Captain Dan read her thoughts and answered them.
“He's a man,” he said shortly, “or an apology for one. I know how to deal with a MAN—his kind, anyway.”
Azuba nodded. “I should say you did,” she observed. “Well, if you'd like to hear the whole yarn, how I come to suspect him and all, I can tell you. You see—”