The young clerk was silent and appalled.
"Oh, curse that harbor! Curse that harbor!" the old man groaned.
"Perhaps, sir," faltered the clerk, "Mr. Bodine can--"
"Bodine! Bodine! what in hell had he to do with it?"
"I could not learn the particulars beyond that Mr. George was--was--in
saving Mr. Bodine, his daughter, and two other ladies--"
"Now may all the infernal powers blast that rebel!" and the old man rushed
down the stairway.
The frightened clerk and waiter followed hastily, and restrained him as he
was opening the front door.
"Sir, dear sir, be patient--"
"Now, Marse Houghton, wot you gwine ter do?" cried the negro.
"I'm going straight to that damned Bodine."
"Den, Marse Houghton, you mus ride. Sam's puttin' de bosses to de kerrige
dis minit."
Houghton instantly darted through the house and out to the stable.
"Haste!" he thundered, "haste, you snail!"
The waiter helped Sam, and in a moment or two the carriage rumbled away,
the waiter on the box with the coachman, and the clerk inside with the
frenzied father.
It was his steps which had startled Bodine and the physician, and they
opened the door facing the landing as the old man came rushing up, crying
hoarsely, "Where's my boy?"
"Where I wish I was," replied Bodine gravely.
The doctor was a strong and decided man. A glance showed him that Mr.
Houghton was excited almost to the point of insanity.
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