“Hello! Hello there, Central!” he bellowed. “I want a long distance call. I want to talk to Saunders, Griffin and Company, Pearl Street, Boston.... Hey? ... Yes, I want to talk to Mr. Doane.... NO, not Cone! Doane—Doane—Mr. John Doane.... Hey? ... You'll call me? ... All right, then; be as quick as you can, that's all.”
He hung up the receiver and, flinging the door open, dashed out into the store again, and began pacing up and down.
Nathaniel ventured one more question.
“Of course it ain't any of my business, Cap'n Dott,” he stammered, “but—”
Daniel waved his hand.
“Sshh! shh!” he commanded. “It's all right. I'll tell you by and by. But now I want to think. To think, by time!”
Ten minutes later the telephone bell rang.
“Hello! Here is your Boston call,” announced Central.
“All right! all right! Is this Saunders, Griffin and Company? ... Hey? ... Is Mr. Doane there?... What? I want to know! Is that you, John? ... This is Dott, speakin'.... Yes, Dan Dott.... No, no, of Trumet, not Scarford.... Yes.... YES.... Here! you let me do the talkin'; you listen.”
Captain Dan ate scarcely any luncheon that day. He seemed to have lost his appetite. This was a good deal of a loss and his wife commented upon it.