“Give me that bonnet, Laban Ginn!”
“I don't like to see that bonnet around, Zuby. Let's get it out of sight quick.”
His wife sprang at the bonnet, but he barred her off with an arm like a fence-rail, removed a lid from the stove, put the unbecoming article in on the red-hot coals, and replaced the lid. “There!” he said, “that helps the scenery, don't it? Now let's have supper.”
Captain Dan laughed again. For an instant Azuba stared, white-faced, at the cremation of the bonnet. Then she darted to the door. “I'll go now,” she cried, “if I have to go bareheaded! I'll show you! Let go of me!”
Mr. Ginn had thrown an arm about her waist. She pulled his hair and gave him some vigorous slaps on the cheek, but he smiled on. “You want to get supper, Zuby,” he coaxed. “I know you do. You just think it over now. It's too noisy out here to do much thinkin'. Where's a nice quiet place? Oh! this'll be first rate.”
He bore her, kicking like a jumping-jack, across the kitchen to the closet where the pans and cooking utensils were kept. “Think it over in there, Zuby,” he said calmly, shutting the door and planting himself in a chair against it. “That's a fine place to think. Now, Cap'n, you and me can have our smoke, while she's thinkin' what to give us to eat; hey?”
Judging by the thumps and kicks and screams inside the closet the housekeeper's thoughts were otherwise engaged.
“You let me out, Labe Ginn!” she screamed. “Cap'n Dott, you make him let me out!”
Daniel, weary from laughing, could only gasp.
“I can't, Zuba!” he answered, choking. “I can't! It ain't my affair. I couldn't interfere between husband and wife. You're a free woman, Zuba, you know. You ought to be advanced enough by this time to fight your own battles.”