Thus it was that Fortune and Opportunity came to the Dott door, and it was the news of the visitation, distorted and exaggerated, which set all Trumet by the ears next day.
Azuba's clam fritters were neglected that noon, just as breakfast had been. Neither Captain Dan nor his wife had slept, and they could not eat. They pretended to, they even tried to, but one or the other was certain to break out with an exclamation or a wondering surmise, and the meal was, as the captain said, “all talk and no substantials.” They had scarcely risen from the table when the doorbell rang.
Azuba heard it and made her entrance from the kitchen. She had remembered this time to shed the offending apron, but she carried it in her hand.
“I'm a-goin',” she declared; “I'm a-goin', soon's ever I can.”
She started for the sitting-room, but the captain stepped in front of her.
“You stay right where you are,” he ordered. “I'll answer that bell myself this time.”
“Daniel,” cried his wife, “what are you going to do?”
“Do? I'm goin' to head off some more fools, that's what I'm goin' to do. They shan't get in here to pester you to death with questions, not if I can help it.”
“But, Daniel, you mustn't. You don't know who it may be.”
“I don't care.”