The reply was emphatic and, in its way, conclusive.
“To the blue brimstone with the supper!” roared Shadrach. “It can wait and so can Zoeth. If he can't he can do the next best.”
He was absent for half an hour. When he returned Mr. Hamilton was in the dining-room. Shadrach entered, bearing the precious shotgun. He stood it carefully in the corner. There was a satisfied look in his eye.
“For goodness' sake, Shadrach!” exclaimed Zoeth, “what have you been thinkin' of? There I was waitin' and waitin' and hankerin' and hankerin' and no you nor no supper. I had to lock up the store finally. 'Twas either that or starve. I ain't a fault-finder, generally speakin', but I have to eat, same as other folks.”
His partner paid not the least attention. His first remark was in the form of a question addressed to Mr. Chase.
“Look here, Isaiah,” he demanded, “did I understand you to say that Mary-'Gusta was with you when that sculpin come to borrow my gun?”
“Yup. She was here.”
“And she knew that he was goin' to shoot a cat with it?”
“Sartin, she heard him say so.”
Shadrach strode to the mantel, took from it a hand-lamp, lighted the lamp and with it in his hand walked from the room and ascended the stairs. Zoeth called after him, but he did not answer.