“Wait a minute, Mrs. Hobbs,” said Baxter.  “What’s the matter?  Has the child been behaving badly?”

Mrs. Hobbs’ lean fingers clinched.  “Behavin’ badly!” she repeated.  “I should say she had!  I never was so mortified in my life.  And at her own father’s funeral, too!”

“What has she done?”

“Done?  She—­” Mrs. Hobbs hesitated, glanced at Captain Shadrach, and left her sentence unfinished.  “Never mind what she done,” she went on.  “I can’t tell you now; I declare I’d be ashamed to.  I’ll go get her.”

She marched from the room.  Zoeth rubbed his forehead.

“She seems sort of put out, don’t she,” he observed, mildly.

Baxter nodded.  “Susan Hobbs has the reputation of getting ‘put out’ pretty often,” he said.  “She has a temper and it isn’t a long one.”

“Has she been takin’ care of Marcellus’s girl?” asked Zoeth.

“Yes.  As much care as the child has had.”

Captain Shad snorted.  It was evident that the housekeeper’s manner had not impressed him favorably.

“Humph!” he said.  “I’d hate to have her take care of me, judgin’ by the way she looked just now.  Say,” hopefully, “do you suppose she was the one fixed that chair?”

They heard Mrs. Hobbs on the floor above, shouting: 

“Mary-’Gusta!  Mary-’Gusta!  Where are you?  Answer me this minute!”

“Don’t seem to be in that room she was talkin’ about,” grumbled Shadrach.  “Tut!  Tut!  What a voice that is!  Got a rasp to it like a rusty saw.”

Mrs. Hobbs was heard descending the stairs.  Her face, when she reentered the sitting-room, was red and she looked more “put out” than ever.

“She ain’t there,” she answered, angrily.  “She’s gone.”

“Gone?” repeated Zoeth and Shadrach in chorus.

“Gone?” repeated the Judge.  “Do you mean she’s run away?”

“No, no!  She ain’t run away—­not for good; she knows better than that.  She’s sneaked off and hid, I suppose.  But I know where she is.  I’ll have her here in a minute.”

She was hurrying out again, but the Captain detained her.

“Wait!” he commanded.  “What’s that you say?  You know where she is?”

“Yes, or I can guess.  Nine chances to one she’s out in that barn.”

“In the barn?  What’s she doin’ there—­playin’ horse?”

“No, no.  She’s hidin’ in the carriage room.  Seems as if the child was possessed to get out in that dusty place and perch herself in the old carryall.  She calls it her playhouse and you’d think ’twas Heaven the way she loves to stay there.  But today of all days!  And with her best clothes on!  And after I expressly told her—­”

“Yes, yes; all right.  Humph!  Well, Zoeth, what do you say?  Shall we go to Heaven and hunt for her?  Maybe ’twill be the only chance some of us’ll get, you can’t tell,” with a wink at Baxter.

“Hush, Shadrach!  How you do talk!” protested the shocked Mr. Hamilton.