"It's no use playing dumb," Ginny snapped. "At our home."
"But aren't you there?" Lester asked. "I don't understand."
"Of course I'm not!" Ginny said hotly. "You know I'm not. I left
yesterday when you went out to get A.P. the financial news. Now, stop
hedging and...."
"But I didn't get the financial news," Lester said. "I went to a hotel
last night."
"_What!_"
"Where are you?"
"I'm at mother's! Lester, you mean you haven't been home all night?"
"No. Haven't you?"
"I told you. I'm at mother's! Oh, Lester! who are all those people?"
"What people? Ginny, tell me what you're talking about!"
"We've got to get over there right away!" Ginny said shrilly. "I called
the house just a little while ago--mother insisted, because of the
baby--and this woman with a terribly sexy voice answered. She wanted
to know with whom I wished to speak, and I could hear a lot of people
talking--all sorts of people! Oh, Lester!"
"Oh, Lord!" Lester said. "I'll get over there right away. It might be
the police!"
"They'll arrest us for child neglect, and everyone will know about it!
Come by mother's and pick me up, Lester! Hurry!"
"Do I have to face your mother at a time like this?"
"I'll wait for you outside--on the sidewalk! Hurry, Lester, please!"
"All right!" Lester said frantically and hung up.
* * * * *
True to her word, Ginny, her overnight case in her hand, was waiting on
the sidewalk when Lester pulled up at the curb. But so was her mother.
Mrs. Feeney was a thin-nosed woman with high cheek bones and a tongue
as swift and venomous as an adder's. For the moment, her naturally
sallow complexion had become quite ruddy. Lester, pulling up the brake,
closed his eyes briefly to steel himself. Mrs. Feeney jutted her head
through the window.
"Hello, Mrs. Feeney," Lester said, opening his eyes reluctantly.
"Lester Holmes!" Mrs. Feeney screeched. "You ought to be horse
whipped! Only a no good skunk like you would even think of deserting
his wife and child like this! Only a low-down rat...."
"Mother!" Ginny cried, shoving Mrs. Feeney desperately back and pulling
the door open. "Please, mother! There isn't time to bawl Lester
out--not now!"
"I'm going to have my say!" Mrs. Feeney snarled determinedly. "I don't
care!"
"Write me a letter!" Lester said, taking Ginny's arm and drawing her
into the seat. "Just keep it clean enough to go through the mails!"
"Why you...." Mrs. Feeney yelped, clawing at the door. "You--viper!
Come back here!"
But Lester had already slammed the door and pressed down on the gas.
The coupe shot ahead down the street.
"Oh, Lester!" Ginny wailed, putting her case down on the floor. "Who
would all those people _be_?"
"I don't know," Lester said worriedly. "Whoever they are, I'll bet
Mrs. Hilliard had something to do with it. I only hope it's not the
authorities!"
* * * * *
The street and the drive were filled with cars when they arrived, and
they were forced to park around on the other side of the block. Lester
helped Ginny out of the car and together they hurried back to the
house.
The lawn was practically covered with sober-looking gentlemen who stood
about in knots, conversing in subdued voices. A small line had formed
at the front door. Lester led the way through the crowd and up the
steps to the door. He found himself faced by a slick-haired young man
who headed the line.
"Not so fast there, pal," the young man said. "You've got to wait your
turn around here. I'm next."
Ginny looked at the young man incredulously. "Next for what?" she asked.
"I'm from the Wee-wheat Cereal Company," the young man said. "I
got a tip on this wonder brat, and the boss sent me over to get an
endorsement and a picture."
Lester cast him a swift, unfriendly glance and turned aggressively to
the door. He grasped the knob and shoved it open, drawing Ginny inside
after him. They were only a step inside the living room, however,
before they were greeted by a dark, sleek woman in a tailored black
suit and jeweled glasses. She observed them with cool grey eyes, and
she was carrying a pad and pencil.
"Yes?" she enquired in a tone that brooked no nonsense.
"What are all these people doing here?" Lester demanded angrily. "Who
are they?"
The woman's gaze moved unconcernedly to the opening in the door and the
men standing outside on the lawn. "Some of them," she announced, "are
financiers and corporation lawyers, I believe. Others are advertising
men and reporters. There are some scientists, too, and one minister."
She smiled noncommittally. "If you would like to place your name on
the list I can fit you in three days from now. That will be Friday
afternoon at precisely two twenty-three. If you'll just state your name
and the nature of your business...."
"The nature of my business!" Lester said. "What's going on here?"
"Matters of considerable importance," the woman said with sudden
severity. "Now, if you've something you wish to take up with A.P...."
"I certainly have!" Lester said. "I have a lot of things to take up
with A.P. I'm his father!" He turned to Ginny. "Close the door."
"Yes," Ginny said. She closed the door quickly and turned back. "And
I'm A.P.'s mother."
"Oh," the woman said. For a moment she seemed uncertain as to just
which attitude in her repertoire to assume. She made a small motion
with her hand. "If you'll just wait here, I'll see if I can get you
in."
"_You_ wait here!" Lester said with sudden heat. "I'll get myself in.
You just bet your garters I will!"
"Yes!" Ginny said and followed after Lester as he turned toward the
hallway.
Crossing the room, they passed a young girl in a starched white blouse,
sitting at the dining table busily typing names and addresses on a
large stack of envelopes. She glanced up at them with no change of
expression and went on working.
"Lester," Ginny said, touching Lester's sleeve, "I just want you to
know that I'm not mad any more. Not at you."
"Me either," Lester said hastily and forged ahead.
At the door to the hallway, they were forced to give way to a lush
and shapely blonde with very red lips. The girl wore a tight nurse's
uniform and carried a bottle in her hand. She bustled past them and
disappeared into the kitchen. They turned toward the nursery from
which was coming the sound of many voices, underscored with a curious
clicking noise.
* * * * *
Arriving at the nursery they stopped short at the threshold. The
room was fairly glutted with people, all talking and moving about at
the same time. In the far corner was a ticker tape machine, which
accounted for the frenetic clicking sound. In the center of all this
activity, A.P. looked on from his crib with an expression of enormous
satisfaction. Somewhere a telephone rang and, except for the clicking
of the machine, the room fell magically silent. A young man with
thick-rimmed spectacles produced the phone from the floor, answered it,
then brought it forward to A.P.'s crib.
"For you, A.P.," he said briskly. "Brandish out on the Coast."
A.P. nodded sagely and gave his attention to the phone. He listened
briefly, pursing his lips.
"Now, just a minute there, Hank," he broke in, "you should be the last
one to question my judgment after this morning. Central Mines paid off,
didn't they? You're darned right they did, and handsomely, too. Now,
I'm telling you, and I'm not going to repeat myself--put your gains on
Spartan Steel. And remember, I'm in for twenty per cent for the tip.
That's right. Goodbye."
He nodded to the young man who promptly removed the phone from his ear
and took it away. At the doorway, Lester stepped resolutely into the
room.
"Now, just a second!" he said loudly. "What do all you people think
you're doing in my house?"
All eyes swiveled in his direction. A.P. looked around and frowned
slightly, as might an ancient warrior who had discovered that he had
been riveted into his armor with a gnat.
"Oh, so you're back," he said mildly.
"How did all these people get in here?" Lester demanded.
"Well," A.P. said without rancor, "when I discovered I'd been
abandoned, I began to yell and, one by one, they began to show up."
"But who are they?" Ginny asked weakly.
"My staff," A.P. said grandly. "Variously--there's no need for
names--they are my private secretary, my social secretary, my
publicist, my business manager, my biographer, my Washington
representative, my personal news compiler and my lawyer. You no doubt
ran into my receptionist, my typist, my clerk and my dietician on your
way in."
"We missed your clerk," Lester said shortly. "Just what do you and your
staff think you're up to?"
"It's not what we think we're up to," A.P. said smoothly, "it's
what we _are_ up to. Already, since just this morning, I have become
the financial advisor to the top ten industrialists in the nation,
and the President. By evening, I expect I will also be the world's
foremost news analyst, financier and political manipulator. I am even
considering an offer to appear in motion pictures, though I'm inclined
to regard any venture in the entertainment field as a trifle facetious
for someone who expects to take over the management of the nation--and
perhaps even the world."
"A dictator!" Ginny cried thinly. "He's turned into a dictator!"
"Oh, not quite yet," A.P. said. "That takes a little time--a few
weeks, anyway."
"No!" Lester gasped.
"No?" A.P. enquired. "What do you mean, no?"
"You can't do this," Lester said. "It isn't right. I won't be the
father of a dictator."
* * * * *
A.P. sighed patiently. "I imagined you'd take some such prosaic
attitude," he murmured. "However, you'll get used to it in time.
Besides, I might point out that you're in no position to object. I can
get you on a child abandonment charge any time I want to." He smiled
significantly. "And now that you're here, it's just as well. I need a
little ready security to balance out a deal I'm putting through. I'd be
much obliged if you'd just sign over a deed to me for the house and the
car. It won't come to much, I know, but it'll see me through."
"What!" Lester cried.
"Of course you'll have to sign them into the name of my business
manager since I'm under age," A.P. explained, "but it will all be in
good order."
"Now, look here, you!" Lester said. "Your mother and I have scrimped
and saved for these things, and...."
"Oh, don't worry," A.P. broke in. "You'll get yours. In fact I mean to
retire you and mother within the next few days with a very tidy little
allowance. I'm picking up a farm in Connecticut on a foreclosure, and
you and mother can move up there--rent free--where you won't worry so
much. So you see...."
The young man with the glasses stepped forward, a legal document
extended in his hand.