When Jimmy gained courage to turn his eyes in the direction of the
family group he had helped to assemble, he was not reassured by the
reproachful glances that he met from Aggie and Zoie. It was apparent
that in their minds, he was again to blame for something. Realising that
they dared not openly reproach him before Alfred, he decided to make his
escape while his friend was still in the room. He reached for his hat
and tiptoed gingerly toward the door, but just as he was congratulating
himself upon his decision, Alfred called to him with a mysterious air.
“Jimmy,” he said, “just a minute,” and he nodded for Jimmy to approach.
It must have been Jimmy's guilty conscience that made him powerless
to disobey Alfred's every command. Anyway, he slunk back to the fond
parent's side, where he ultimately allowed himself to be inveigled into
swinging his new watch before the unattentive eyes of the red-faced
babes on Alfred's knees.
“Lower, Jimmy, lower,” called Alfred as Jimmy absent-mindedly allowed
the watch to swing out of the prescribed orbit. “Look at the darlings,
Jimmy, look at them,” he exclaimed as he gazed at the small creatures
admiringly.
“Yes, look at them, Jimmy,” repeated Zoie, and she glared at Jimmy
behind Alfred's back.
“Don't you wish you had one of them, Jimmy?'” asked Alfred.
“Well, _I_ wish he had,” commented Zoie, and she wondered how she was
ever again to detach either of them from Alfred's breast.
Before she could form any plan, the telephone rang loud and
persistently. Jimmy glanced anxiously toward the women for instructions.
“I'll answer it,” said Aggie with suspicious alacrity, and she crossed
quickly toward the 'phone. The scattered bits of conversation that Zoie
was able to gather from Aggie's end of the wire did not tend to soothe
her over-excited nerves. As for Alfred, he was fortunately so engrossed
with the babies that he took little notice of what Aggie was saying.
“What woman?” asked Aggie into the 'phone. “Where's she from?” The
answer was evidently not reassuring. “Certainly not,” exclaimed Aggie,
“don't let her come up; send her away. Mrs. Hardy can't see anyone at
all.” Then followed a bit of pantomime between Zoie and Aggie, from
which it appeared that their troubles were multiplying, then Aggie again
gave her attention to the 'phone. “I don't know anything about her,” she
fibbed, “that woman must have the wrong address.” And with that she hung
up the receiver and came towards Alfred, anxious to get possession of
his two small charges and to get them from the room, lest the mother who
was apparently downstairs should thrust herself into their midst.
“What's the trouble, Aggie?” asked Alfred, and he nodded toward the
telephone.
“Oh, just some woman with the wrong address,” answered Aggie with
affected carelessness. “You'd better let me take the babies now,
Alfred.”
“Take them where?” asked Alfred with surprise.
“To bed,” answered Aggie sweetly, “they are going to sleep in the next
room with Jimmy and me.” She laid a detaining hand on Jimmy's arm.
“What's the hurry?” asked Alfred a bit disgruntled.
“It's very late,” argued Aggie.
“Of course it is,” insisted Zoie. “Please, Alfred,” she pleaded, “do let
Aggie take them.”
Alfred rose reluctantly. “Mother knows best,” he sighed, but ignoring
Aggie's outstretched arms, he refused to relinquish the joy of himself
carrying the small mites to their room, and he disappeared with the two
of them, singing his now favourite lullaby.
When Alfred had left the room, Jimmy, who was now seated comfortably in
the rocker, was rudely startled by a sharp voice at either side of him.
“Well!” shrieked Zoie, with all the disapproval that could be got into
the one small word.
“You're very clever, aren't you?” sneered Aggie at Jimmy's other elbow.
Jimmy stared from one to the other.
“A nice fix you've got me into NOW,” reproved Zoie.
“Why didn't you get out when you had the chance?” demanded Aggie.
“You would take your own sweet time, wouldn't you,” said Zoie.
“What did I tell you?” asked Aggie.
“What does he care?” exclaimed Zoie, and she walked up and down the room
excitedly, oblivious of the disarrangement of her flying negligee. “He's
perfectly comfortable.”
“Oh yes,” assented Jimmy, as he sank back into the rocker and
began propelling himself to and fro. “I never felt better,” but a
disinterested observer would have seen in him the picture of discomfort.
“You're going to feel a great deal WORSE,” he was warned by Aggie. “Do
you know who that was on the telephone?” she asked.
Jimmy looked at her mutely.
“The mother!” said Aggie emphatically
“What!” exclaimed Jimmy.
“She's down stairs,” explained Aggie.
Jimmy had stopped rocking--his face now wore an uneasy expression.
“It's time you showed a little human intelligence,” taunted Zoie, then
she turned her back upon him and continued to Aggie, “what did she say?”
“She says,” answered Aggie, with a threatening glance toward Jimmy,
“that she won't leave this place until Jimmy gives her baby back.”
“Let her have her old baby,” said Jimmy. “I don't want it.”
“You don't want it?” snapped Zoie indignantly, “what have YOU got to do
with it?”
“Oh nothing, nothing,” acquiesced Jimmy meekly, “I'm a mere detail.”
“A lot you care what becomes of me,” exclaimed Zoie reproachfully; then
she turned to Aggie with a decided nod. “Well, I want it,” she asserted.
“But Zoie,” protested Aggie in astonishment, “you can't mean to keep
BOTH of them?”
“I certainly DO,” said Zoie.
“What?” cried Aggie and Jimmy in concert.
“Jimmy has presented Alfred with twins,” continued Zoie testily, “and
now, he has to HAVE twins.”
Jimmy's eyes were growing rounder and rounder.
“Do you know,” continued Zoie, with a growing sense of indignation,
“what would happen to me if I told Alfred NOW that he WASN'T the father
of twins? He'd fly straight out of that door and I'd never see him
again.”
Aggie admitted that Zoie was no doubt speaking the truth.
“Jimmy has awakened Alfred's paternal instinct for twins,” declared
Zoie, with another emphatic nod of her head, “and now Jimmy must take
the consequences.”
Jimmy tried to frame a few faint objections, but Zoie waved him aside,
with a positive air. “It's no use arguing. If it were only ONE, it
wouldn't be so bad, but to tell Alfred that he's lost twins, he couldn't
live through it.”
“But Zoie,” argued Aggie, “we can't have that mother hanging around down
stairs until that baby is an old man. She'll have us arrested, the next
thing.”
“Why arrest US?” asked Zoie, with wide baby eyes. “WE didn't take it.
Old slow-poke took it.” And she nodded toward the now utterly vanquished
Jimmy.
“That's right,” murmured Jimmy, with a weak attempt at sarcasm, “don't
leave me out of anything good.”
“It doesn't matter WHICH one she arrests,” decided the practical Aggie.
“Well, it matters to me,” objected Zoie.
“And to me too, if it's all the same to you,” protested Jimmy.
“Whoever it is,” continued Aggie, “the truth is bound to come out.
Alfred will have to know sooner or later, so we might as well make a
clean breast of it, first as last.”
“That's the first sensible thing you've said in three months,” declared
Jimmy with reviving hope.
“Oh, is that so?” sneered Zoie, and she levelled her most malicious look
at Jimmy. “What do you think Alfred would do to YOU, Mr. Jimmy, if he
knew the truth? YOU'RE the one who sent him the telegram; you are the
one who told him that he was a FATHER.”
“That's true,” admitted Aggie, with a wrinkled forehead.
Zoie was quick to see her advantage. She followed it up. “And Alfred
hasn't any sense of humour, you know.”
“How could he have?” groaned Jimmy; “he's married.” And with that he
sank into his habitual state of dumps.
“Your sarcasm will do a great deal of good,” flashed Zoie. Then she
dismissed him with a nod, and crossed to her dressing table.
“But Zoie,” persisted Aggie, as she followed her young friend in
trepidation, “don't you realise that if you persist in keeping this
baby, that mother will dog Jimmy's footsteps for the rest of his life?”
“That will be nice,” murmured Jimmy.
Zoie busied herself with her toilet, and turned a deaf ear to Aggie.
There was a touch of genuine emotion in Aggie's voice when she
continued.
“Just think of it, Zoie, Jimmy will never be able to come and go like a
free man again.”
“What do I care how he comes and goes?” exclaimed Zoie impatiently. “If
Jimmy had gone when we told him to go, that woman would have had her old
baby by now; but he didn't, oh no! All he ever does is to sit around and
talk about his dinner.”
“Yes,” cried Jimmy hotly, “and that's about as far as I ever GET with
it.”
“You'll never get anywhere with anything,” was Zoie's exasperating
answer. “You're too slow.”
“Well, there's nothing slow about you,” retorted Jimmy, stung to a
frenzy by her insolence.
“Oh please, please,” interposed Aggie, desperately determined to keep
these two irascible persons to the main issue. “What are we going to
tell that mother?”
“You can tell her whatever you like,” answered Zoie, with an impudent
toss of her head, “but I'll NOT give up that baby until I get ANOTHER
one.'
“Another?” almost shrieked Jimmy. It was apparent that he must needs
increase the number of his brain cells if he were to follow this
extraordinary young woman's line of thought much further. “You don't
expect to go on multiplying them forever, do you?” he asked.
“YOU are the one who has been multiplying them,” was Zoie's
disconcerting reply.
It was evident to Jimmy that he could not think fast enough nor clearly
enough to save himself from a mental disaster if he continued to argue
with the shameless young woman, so he contented himself by rocking to
and fro and murmuring dismally that he had “known from the first that it
was to be an endless chain.”
While Zoie and Jimmy had been wrangling, Aggie had been weighing the
pros and cons of the case. She now turned to Jimmy with a tone of firm
but motherly decision. “Zoie is quite right,” she said.
Jimmy rolled his large eyes up at his spouse with a “you too, Brutus,”
expression.
Aggie continued mercilessly, “It's the only way, Jimmy.”
No sooner had Aggie arrived at her decision than Zoie upset her
tranquillity by a triumphant expression of “I have it.”
Jimmy and Aggie gazed at Zoie's radiant face in consternation. They were
accustomed to see only reproach there. Her sudden enthusiasm increased
Jimmy's uneasiness.
“YOU have it,” he grunted without attempting to conceal his disgust.
“SHE'S the one who generally has it.” And he nodded toward Aggie.
Inflamed by her young friend's enthusiasm, Aggie rushed to her eagerly.
“What is it, Zoie?” she asked.
“The washerwoman!” exclaimed Zoie, as though the revelation had come
straight from heaven. “SHE HAD TWINS,” and with that, two pairs of eyes
turned expectantly toward the only man in the room.
Tracing the pattern of the rug with his toe, Jimmy remained stubbornly
oblivious of their attentions. He rearranged the pillows on the couch,
and finally, for want of a better occupation, he wound his watch. All to
no avail. He could feel Zoie's cat-like gaze upon him.
“Jimmy can get the other one,” she said.
“The hell I can,” exclaimed Jimmy, starting to his feet and no longer
considering time or place.
The two women gazed at him reproachfully.
“Jimmy!” cried Aggie, in a shocked, hurt voice. “That's the first time
I've ever heard you swear.”
“Well, it won't be the LAST time,” declared Jimmy hotly, “if THIS keeps
up.” His eyes were blazing. He paced to and fro like an infuriated lion.
“Dearest,” said Aggie, “you look almost imposing.”
“Nonsense,” interrupted Zoie, who found Jimmy unusually ridiculous. “If
I'd known that Jimmy was going to put such an idea into Alfred's head,
I'd have got the two in the first place.”
“Will she let us HAVE the other?” asked Aggie with some misgiving.
“Of course she will,” answered Zoie, leaving Jimmy entirely out of
the conversation. “She's as poor as a church mouse. I'll pay her well.
She'll never miss it. What could she do with one twin, anyway?”
A snort of rage from Jimmy did not disturb Zoie's enthusiasm. She
proceeded to elaborate her plan.
“I'll adopt them,” she declared, “I'll leave them all Alfred's money.
Think of Alfred having real live twins for keeps.”
“It would be nice, wouldn't it?” commented Jimmy sarcastically.
Zoie turned to Jimmy, as though they were on the best of terms.
“How much money have you?” she asked.
Before Jimmy could declare himself penniless, Aggie answered for him
with the greatest enthusiasm, “He has a whole lot; he drew some today.”
“Good!” exclaimed Zoie to the abashed Jimmy, and then she continued in a
matter-of-fact tone, “Now, Jimmy,” she said, “you go give the washwoman
what money you have on account, then tell her to come around here in the
morning when Alfred has gone out and I'll settle all the details with
her. Go on now, Jimmy,” she continued, “you don't need another letter.”
“No,” chimed in Aggie sweetly; “you know her now, dear.”
“Oh, yes,” corroborated Jimmy, with a sarcastic smile and without
budging from the spot on which he stood, “we are great pals now.”
“What's the matter?” asked Zoie, astonished that Jimmy was not starting
on his mission with alacrity. “What are you waiting for?”
Jimmy merely continued to smile enigmatically.
“You know what happened the last time you hesitated,” warned Aggie.
“I know what happened when I DIDN'T hesitate,” ruminated Jimmy, still
holding his ground.
Zoie's eyes were wide with surprise. “You don't mean to say,” she
exclaimed incredulously, “that you aren't GOING--after we have thought
all this out just to SAVE you?”
“Say,” answered Jimmy, with a confidential air, “do me a favour, will
you? Stop thinking out things to 'save me.'”
“But, Jimmy----” protested both women simultaneously; but before they
could get further Alfred's distressed voice reached them from the next
room.
“Aggie!” he called frantically.
CHAPTER XVIII
What seemed to be a streak of pink through the room was in reality Zoie
bolting for the bed.
While Zoie hastened to snuggle comfortably under the covers, Aggie tried
without avail to get Jimmy started on his errand.
Getting no response from Aggie, Alfred, bearing one infant in his arms,
came in search of her. Apparently he was having difficulty with the
unfastening of baby's collar.
“Aggie,” he called sharply, “how on earth do you get this fool pin out?”
“Take him back, Alfred,” answered Aggie impatiently; “I'll be there in a
minute.”
But Alfred had apparently made up his mind that he was not a success as
a nurse.
“You'd better take him now, Aggie,” he decided, as he offered the small
person to the reluctant Aggie. “I'll stay here and talk to Jimmy.”
“Oh, but Jimmy was just going out,” answered Aggie; then she turned to
her obdurate spouse with mock sweetness, “Weren't you, dear?” she asked.
“Yes,” affirmed Zoie, with a threatening glance toward Jimmy. “He was
going, just now.”
Still Jimmy remained rooted to the spot.
“Out?” questioned Alfred. “What for?”
“Just for a little air,” explained Aggie blandly.
“Yes,” growled Jimmy, “another little heir.”
“Air?” repeated Alfred in surprise. “He had air a while ago with my
son. He is going to stay here and tell me the news. Sit down, Jimmy,”
he commanded, and to the intense annoyance of Aggie and Zoie, Jimmy sank
resignedly on the couch.
Alfred was about to seat himself beside his friend, when the 'phone rang
violently. Being nearest to the instrument, Alfred reached it first and
Zoie and Aggie awaited the consequences in dread. What they heard did
not reassure them nor Jimmy.
“Still down there?” exclaimed Alfred into the 'phone.
Jimmy began to wriggle with a vague uneasiness.
“Well,” continued Alfred at the 'phone, “that woman has the wrong
number.” Then with a peremptory “Wait a minute,” he turned to Zoie, “The
hall boy says that woman who called a while ago is still down stairs and
she won't go away until she has seen you, Zoie. She has some kind of an
idiotic idea that you know where her baby is.”
“How absurd,” sneered Zoie.
“How silly,” added Aggie.
“How foolish,” grunted Jimmy.
“Well,” decided Alfred, “I'd better go down stairs and see what's
the matter with her,” and he turned toward the door to carry out his
intention.
“Alfred!” called Zoie sharply. She was half out of bed in her anxiety.
“You'll do no such thing. 'Phone down to the boy to send her away. She's
crazy.”
“Oh,” said Alfred, “then she's been here before? Who is she?”
“Who is she?” answered Zoie, trying to gain time for a new inspiration.
“Why, she's--she's----” her face lit up with satisfaction--the idea had
arrived. “She's the nurse,” she concluded emphatically.
“The nurse?” repeated Alfred, a bit confused.
“Yes,” answered Zoie, pretending to be annoyed with his dull memory.
“She's the one I told you about, the one I had to discharge.”
“Oh,” said Alfred, with the relief of sudden comprehension; “the crazy
one?”
Aggie and Zoie nodded their heads and smiled at him tolerantly, then
Zoie continued to elaborate. “You see,” she said, “the poor creature was
so insane about little Jimmy that I couldn't go near the child.”
“What!” exclaimed Alfred in a mighty rage. “I'll soon tell the boy what
to do with her,” he declared, and he rushed to the 'phone. Barely had
Alfred taken the receiver from the hook when the outer door was heard
to bang. Before he could speak a distracted young woman, whose excitable
manner bespoke her foreign origin, swept through the door without seeing
him and hurled herself at the unsuspecting Zoie. The woman's black hair
was dishevelled, and her large shawl had fallen from her shoulders. To
Jimmy, who was crouching behind an armchair, she seemed a giantess.
“My baby!” cried the frenzied mother, with what was unmistakably an
Italian accent. “Where is he?” There was no answer; her eyes sought
the cradle. “Ah!” she shrieked, then upon finding the cradle empty, she
redoubled her lamentations and again she bore down upon the terrified
Zoie.
“You,” she cried, “you know where my baby is!”
For answer, Zoie sank back amongst her pillows and drew the bed covers
completely over her head. Alfred approached the bed to protect his young
wife; the Italian woman wheeled about and perceived a small child in his
arms. She threw herself upon him.
“I knew it,” she cried; “I knew it!”
Managing to disengage himself from what he considered a mad woman, and
elevating one elbow between her and the child, Alfred prevented the
mother from snatching the small creature from his arms.
“Calm yourself, madam,” he commanded with a superior air. “We are very
sorry for you, of course, but we can't have you coming here and going on
like this. He's OUR baby and----”
“He's NOT your baby!” cried the infuriated mother; “he's MY baby.
Give him to me. Give him to me,” and with that she sprang upon the
uncomfortable Alfred like a tigress. Throwing her whole weight on his
uplifted elbow, she managed to pull down his arm until she could look
into the face of the washerwoman's promising young offspring. The air
was rent by a scream that made each individual hair of Jimmy's head
stand up in its own defence. He could feel a sickly sensation at the top
of his short thick neck.
“He's NOT my baby,” wailed the now demented mother, little dreaming that
the infant for which she was searching was now reposing comfortably on a
soft pillow in the adjoining room.
As for Alfred, all of this was merely confirmation of Zoie's statement
that this poor soul was crazy, and he was tempted to dismiss her with
worthy forbearance.
“I am glad, madam,” he said, “that you are coming to your senses.”
Now, all would have gone well and the bewildered mother would no doubt
have left the room convinced of her mistake, had not Jimmy's nerves got
the better of his judgment. Having slipped cautiously from his position
behind the armchair he was tiptoeing toward the door, and was flattering
himself on his escape, when suddenly, as his forward foot cautiously
touched the threshold, he heard the cry of the captor in his wake, and
before he could possibly command the action of his other foot, he felt
himself being forcibly drawn backward by what appeared to be his too
tenacious coat-tails.
“If only they would tear,” thought Jimmy, but thanks to the excellence
of the tailor that Aggie had selected for him, they did NOT “tear.”
Not until she had anchored Jimmy safely to the centre of the rug did the
irate mother pour out the full venom of her resentment toward him. From
the mixture of English and Italian that followed, it was apparent that
she was accusing Jimmy of having stolen her baby.
“Take me to him,” she demanded tragically; “my baby--take me to him!”
Jimmy appealed to Aggie and Zoie. Their faces were as blank as his own.
He glanced at Alfred.
“Humour her,” whispered Alfred, much elated by the evidence of his
own self-control as compared to Jimmy's utter demoralisation under the
apparently same circumstances.
Still Jimmy did not budge.
Alfred was becoming vexed; he pointed first to his own forehead, then
to that of Jimmy's hysterical captor. He even illustrated his meaning
by making a rotary motion with his forefinger, intended to remind Jimmy
that the woman was a lunatic.
Still Jimmy only stared at him and all the while the woman was becoming
more and more emphatic in her declaration that Jimmy knew where her baby
was.
“Sure, Jimmy,” said Alfred, out of all patience with Jimmy's stupidity
and tiring of the strain of the woman's presence. “You know where her
baby is.”
“Ah!” cried the mother, and she towered over Jimmy with a wild light in
her eyes. “Take me to him,” she demanded; “take me to him.”
Jimmy rolled his large eyes first toward Aggie, then toward Zoie and at
last toward Alfred. There was no mercy to be found anywhere.
“Take her to him, Jimmy,” commanded a concert of voices; and pursued by
a bundle of waving colours and a medley of discordant sounds, Jimmy shot
from the room.
CHAPTER XXIV
The departure of Jimmy and the crazed mother was the occasion for a
general relaxing among the remaining occupants of the room. Exhausted
by what had passed Zoie had ceased to interest herself in the future. It
was enough for the present that she could sink back upon her pillows and
draw a long breath without an evil face bending over her, and without
the air being rent by screams.
As for Aggie, she fell back upon the window seat and closed her eyes.
The horrors into which Jimmy might be rushing had not yet presented
themselves to her imagination.
Of the three, Alfred was the only one who had apparently received
exhilaration from the encounter. He was strutting about the room with
the babe in his arms, undoubtedly enjoying the sensations of a hero.
When he could sufficiently control his feeling of elation, he looked
down at the small person with an air of condescension and again lent
himself to the garbled sort of language with which defenceless infants
are inevitably persecuted.
“Tink of dat horrid old woman wanting to steal our own little oppsie,
woppsie, toppsie babykins,” he said. Then he turned to Zoie with an
air of great decision. “That woman ought to be locked up,” he declared,
“she's dangerous,” and with that he crossed to Aggie and hurriedly
placed the infant in her unsuspecting arms. “Here, Aggie,” he said, “you
take Alfred and get him into bed.”
Glad of an excuse to escape to the next room and recover her self
control, Aggie quickly disappeared with the child.
For some moments Alfred continued to pace up and down the room; then he
came to a full stop before Zoie.
“I'll have to have something done to that woman,” he declared
emphatically.
“Jimmy will do enough to her,” sighed Zoie, weakly.
“She's no business to be at large,” continued Alfred; then, with a
business-like air, he started toward the telephone.
“Where are you going?” asked Zoie.
Alfred did not answer. He was now calling into the 'phone, “Give me
information.”
“What on earth are you doing?” demanded Zoie, more and more disturbed by
his mysterious manner.
“One can't be too careful,” retorted Alfred in his most paternal
fashion; “there's an awful lot of kidnapping going on these days.”
“Well, you don't suspect information, do you?” asked Zoie.
Again Alfred ignored her; he was intent upon things of more importance.
“Hello,” he called into the 'phone, “is this information?” Apparently it
was for he continued, with a satisfied air, “Well, give me the Fullerton
Street Police Station.”
“The Police?” cried Zoie, sitting up in bed and looking about the room
with a new sense of alarm.
Alfred did not answer.
“Aggie!” shrieked the over-wrought young wife.
Alfred attempted to reassure her. “Now, now, dear, don't get nervous,”
he said, “I am only taking the necessary precautions.” And again he
turned to the 'phone.
Alarmed by Zoie's summons, Aggie entered the room hastily. She was not
reassured upon hearing Alfred's further conversation at the 'phone.
“Is this the Fullerton Street Police Station?” asked Alfred.
“The Police!” echoed Aggie, and her eyes sought Zoie's inquiringly.
“Sh! Sh!” called Alfred over his shoulder to the excited Aggie, then
he continued into the 'phone. “Is Donneghey there?” There was a pause.
Alfred laughed jovially. “It is? Well, hello, Donneghey, this is your
old friend Hardy, Alfred Hardy at the Sherwood. I've just got back,”
then he broke the happy news to the no doubt appreciative Donneghey.
“What do you think?” he said, “I'm a happy father.”
Zoie puckered her small face in disgust.
Alfred continued to elucidate joyfully at the 'phone.
“Doubles,” he said, “yes--sure--on the level.”
“I don't know why you have to tell the whole neighbourhood,” snapped
Zoie. Her colour was visibly rising.
But Alfred was now in the full glow of his genial account to his friend.
“Set 'em up?” he repeated in answer to an evident suggestion from the
other end of the line, “I should say I would. The drinks are on me. Tell
the boys I'll be right over. And say, Donneghey,” he added, in a more
confidential tone, “I want to bring one of the men home with me. I
want him to keep an eye on the house to-night”; then after a pause, he
concluded confidentially, “I'll tell you all about it when I get there.
It looks like a kidnapping scheme to me,” and with that he hung up the
receiver, unmistakably pleased with himself, and turned his beaming face
toward Zoie.
“It's all right, dear,” he said, rubbing his hands together with evident
satisfaction, “Donneghey is going to let us have a Special Officer to
watch the house to-night.”
“I won't HAVE a special officer,” declared Zoie vehemently; then
becoming aware of Alfred's great surprise, she explained half-tearfully,
“I'm not going to have the police hanging around our very door. I would
feel as though I were in prison.”
“You ARE in prison, my dear,” returned the now irrepressible Alfred. “A
prison of love--you and our precious boys.” He stooped and implanted a
gracious kiss on her forehead, then turned toward the table for his hat.
“Now,” he said, “I'll just run around the corner, set up the drinks for
the boys, and bring the officer home with me,” and drawing himself up
proudly, he cried gaily in parting, “I'll bet there's not another man in
Chicago who has what I have to-night.”
“I hope not,” groaned Zoie. as the door closed behind him. Then,
thrusting her two small feet from beneath the coverlet and perching on
the side of the bed, she declared to Aggie that “Alfred was getting more
idiotic every minute.”
“He's worse than idiotic,” corrected Aggie. “He's getting dangerous. If
he gets the police around here before we give that baby back, they'll
get the mother. She'll tell all she knows and that will be the end of
Jimmy!”
“End of Jimmy?” exclaimed Zoie, “it'll be the end of ALL of us.”
“I can see our pictures in the papers, right now,” groaned Aggie. “Jimmy
will be the villain.”
“Jimmy IS a villain,” declared Zoie. “Where is he? Why doesn't he come
back? How am I ever going to get that other twin?”
“There is only one thing to do,” decided Aggie, “I must go for it
myself.” And she snatched up her cape from the couch and started toward
the door.
“You?” cried Zoie, in alarm, “and leave me alone?”
“It's our only chance,” argued Aggie. “I'll have to do it now, before
Alfred gets back.”
“But Aggie,” protested Zoie, clinging to her departing friend, “suppose
that crazy mother should come back?”
“Nonsense,” replied Aggie, and before Zoie could actually realise what
was happening the bang of the outside door told her that she was alone.
CHAPTER XXV
Wondering what new terrors awaited her, Zoie glanced uncertainly from
door to door. So strong had become her habit of taking refuge in the
bed, that unconsciously she backed toward it now. Barely had she reached
the centre of the room when a terrific crash of breaking glass from the
adjoining room sent her shrieking in terror over the footboard, and head
first under the covers. Here she would doubtless have remained until
suffocated, had not Jimmy in his backward flight from one of the
inner rooms overturned a large rocker. This additional shock to Zoie's
overstrung nerves forced a wild scream from her lips, and an answering
exclamation from the nerve-racked Jimmy made her sit bolt upright. She
gazed at him in astonishment. His tie was awry, one end of his collar
had taken leave of its anchorage beneath his stout chin, and was now
just tickling the edge of his red, perspiring brow. His hair was on end
and his feelings were undeniably ruffled. As usual Zoie's greeting did
not tend to conciliate him.
“How did YOU get here?” she asked with an air of reproach.
“The fire-escape,” panted Jimmy and he nodded mysteriously toward the
inner rooms of the apartment.
“Fire-escape?” echoed Zoie. There was only one and that led through the
bathroom window.
Jimmy explained no further. He was now peeping cautiously out of the
window toward the pavement below.
“Where's the mother?” demanded Zoie.
Jimmy jerked his thumb in the direction of the street. Zoie gazed at him
with grave apprehension.
“Jimmy!” she exclaimed. “You haven't killed her?”
Jimmy shook his head and continued to peer cautiously out of the window.
“What did you do with her?” called the now exasperated Zoie.
“What did _I_ do with her?” repeated Jimmy, a flash of his old
resentment returning. “What did SHE do with ME?”
For the first time, Zoie became fully conscious of Jimmy's ludicrous
appearance. Her overstrained nerves gave way and she began to laugh
hysterically.
“Say,” shouted Jimmy, towering over the bed and devoutly wishing that
she were his wife so that he might strike her with impunity. “Don't you
sic any more lunatics onto me.”
It is doubtful whether Zoie's continued laughter might not have provoked
Jimmy to desperate measures, had not the 'phone at that moment directed
their thoughts toward worse possibilities. After the instrument had
continued to ring persistently for what seemed to Zoie an age, she
motioned to Jimmy to answer it. He responded by retreating to the other
side of the room.
“It may be Aggie,” suggested Zoie.
For the first time, Jimmy became aware that Aggie was nowhere in the
apartment.
“Good Lord!” he exclaimed, as he realised that he was again tete-a-tete
with the terror of his dreams. “Where IS Aggie?”
“Gone to do what YOU should have done,” was Zoie's characteristic
answer.
“Well,” answered Jimmy hotly, “it's about time that somebody besides me
did something around this place.”
“YOU,” mocked Zoie, “all YOU'VE ever done was to hoodoo me from the very
beginning.”
“If you'd taken my advice,” answered Jimmy, “and told your husband the
truth about the luncheon, there'd never have been any 'beginning.'”
“If, if, if,” cried Zoie, in an agony of impatience, “if you'd tipped
that horrid old waiter enough, he'd never have told anyway.”
“I'm not buying waiters to cover up your crimes,” announced Jimmy with
his most self-righteous air.
“You'll be buying more than that to cover up your OWN crimes before
you've finished,” retorted Zoie.
“Before I've finished with YOU, yes,” agreed Jimmy. He wheeled upon her
with increasing resentment. “Do you know where I expect to end up?” he
asked.
“I know where you OUGHT to end up,” snapped Zoie.
“I'll finish in the electric chair,” said Jimmy. “I can feel blue
lightning chasing up and down my spine right now.”
“Well, I wish you HAD finished in the electric chair,” declared Zoie,
“before you ever dragged me into that awful old restaurant.”
“Oh, you do, do you?” answered Jimmy shaking his fist at her across the
foot of the bed. For the want of adequate words to express his further
feelings, Jimmy was beginning to jibber, when the outer door was
heard to close, and he turned to behold Aggie entering hurriedly with
something partly concealed by her long cape.
“It's all right,” explained Aggie triumphantly to Zoie. “I've got it.”
She threw her cape aside and disclosed the fruits of her conquest.
“So,” snorted Jimmy in disgust, slightly miffed by the apparent ease
with which Aggie had accomplished a task about which he had made so much
ado, “you've gone into the business too, have you?”
Aggie deigned no reply to him. She continued in a businesslike tone to
Zoie.
“Where's Alfred?” she asked.
“Still out,” answered Zoie.
“Thank Heaven,” sighed Aggie, then she turned to Jimmy and addressed him
in rapid, decided tones. “Now, dear,” she said, “I'll just put the new
baby to bed, then I'll give you the other one and you can take it right
down to the mother.”
Jimmy made a vain start in the direction of the fire-escape. Four
detaining hands were laid upon him.
“Don't try anything like that,” warned Aggie; “you can't get out of this
house without that baby. The mother is down stairs now. She's guarding
the door. I saw her.” And Aggie sailed triumphantly out of the room to
make the proposed exchange of babies.
Before Jimmy was able to suggest to himself an escape from Aggie's last
plan of action, the telephone again began to cry for attention.
Neither Jimmy nor Zoie could summon courage to approach the impatient
instrument, and as usual Zoie cried frantically for Aggie.
Aggie was not long in returning to the room and this time she bore in
her arms the infant so strenuously demanded by its mad mother.
“Here you are, Jimmy,” she said; “here's the other one. Now take him
down stairs quickly before Alfred gets back.” She attempted to place the
unresisting babe in Jimmy's chubby arms, but Jimmy's freedom was not to
be so easily disposed of.
“What!” he exclaimed, backing away from the small creature in fear and
abhorrence, “take that bundle of rags down to the hotel office and have
that woman hystericing all over me. No, thanks.”
“Oh well,” answered Aggie, distracted by the persistent ringing of the
'phone, “then hold him a minute until I answer the 'phone.”
This at least was a compromise, and reluctantly Jimmy allowed the now
wailing infant to be placed in his arms.
“Jig it, Jimmy, jig it,” cried Zoie. Jimmy looked down helplessly at
the baby's angry red face, but before he had made much headway with the
“jigging,” Aggie returned to them, much excited by the message which she
had just received over the telephone.
“That mother is making a scene down stairs in the office,” she said.
“You hear,” chided Zoie, in a fury at Jimmy, “what did Aggie tell you?”
“If she wants this thing,” maintained Jimmy, looking down at the bundle
in his arms, “she can come after it.”
“We can't have her up here,” objected Aggie.
“Alfred may be back at any minute. He'd catch her. You know what
happened the last time we tried to change them.”
“You can send it down the chimney, for all I care,” concluded Jimmy.
“I have it!” exclaimed Aggie, her face suddenly illumined.
“Oh Lord,” groaned Jimmy, who had come to regard any elation on Zoie's
or Aggie's part as a sure forewarner of ultimate discomfort for him.
Again Aggie had recourse to the 'phone.
“Hello,” she called to the office boy, “tell that woman to go around to
the back door, and we'll send something down to her.” There was a slight
pause, then Aggie added sweetly, “Yes, tell her to wait at the foot of
the fire-escape.”
Zoie had already caught the drift of Aggie's intention and she now fixed
her glittering eyes upon Jimmy, who was already shifting about uneasily
and glancing at Aggie, who approached him with a business-like air.
“Now, dear,” said Aggie, “come with me. I'll hand Baby out through the
bathroom window and you can run right down the fire-escape with him.”
“If I do run down the fire-escape,” exclaimed Jimmy, wagging his large
head from side to side, “I'll keep right on RUNNING. That's the last
you'll ever see of me.”
“But, Jimmy,” protested Aggie, slightly hurt by his threat, “once that
woman gets her baby you'll have no more trouble.”
“With you two still alive?” asked Jimmy, looking from one to the other.
“She'll be up here if you don't hurry,” urged Aggie impatiently, and
with that she pulled Jimmy toward the bedroom door.
“Let her come,” said Jimmy, planting his feet so as to resist Aggie's
repeated tugs, “I'm going to South America.”
“Why will you act like this,” cried Aggie, in utter desperation, “when
we have so little time?”
“Say,” said Jimmy irrelevantly, “do you know that I haven't had any----”
“Yes,” interrupted Aggie and Zoie in chorus, “we know.”
“How long,” continued Zoie impatiently, “is it going to take you to slip
down that fire-escape?”
“That depends on how fast I 'slip,'” answered Jimmy doggedly.
“You'll 'slip' all right,” sneered Zoie.
Further exchange of pleasantries between these two antagonists was cut
short by the banging of the outside door.
“Good Heavens!” exclaimed Aggie, glancing nervously over her shoulder,
“there's Alfred now. Hurry, Jimmy, hurry,” she cried, and with that she
fairly forced Jimmy out through the bedroom door, and followed in his
wake to see him safely down the fire-escape.
CHAPTER XXVI
Zoie had barely time to arrange herself after the manner of an
interesting invalid, when Alfred entered the room in the gayest of
spirits.
“Hello, dearie,” he cried as he crossed quickly to her side.
“Already?” asked Zoie faintly and she glanced uneasily toward the door,
through which Jimmy and Aggie had just disappeared.
“I told you I shouldn't be long,” said Alfred jovially, and he implanted
a condescending kiss on her forehead. “How is the little mother, eh?” he
asked, rubbing his hands together in satisfaction.
“You're all cold,” pouted Zoie, edging away, “and you've been drinking.”
“I had to have one or two with the boys,” said Alfred, throwing out his
chest and strutting about the room, “but never again. From now on I cut
out all drinks and cigars. This is where I begin to live my life for our
sons.”
“How about your life for me?” asked Zoie, as she began to see long years
of boredom stretching before her.
“You and our boys are one and the same, dear,” answered Alfred, coming
back to her side.
“You mean you couldn't go on loving ME if it weren't for the BOYS?”
asked Zoie, with anxiety. She was beginning to realise how completely
her hold upon him depended upon her hideous deception.
“Of course I could, Zoie,” answered Alfred, flattered by what he
considered her desire for his complete devotion, “but----”
“But not so MUCH,” pouted Zoie.
“Well, of course, dear,” admitted Alfred evasively, as he sank down upon
the edge of the bed by her side--
“You needn't say another word,” interrupted Zoie, and then with a shade
of genuine repentance, she declared shame-facedly that she hadn't been
“much of a wife” to Alfred.
“Nonsense!” contradicted the proud young father, “you've given me the
ONE thing that I wanted most in the world.”
“But you see, dear,” said Zoie, as she wound her little white arms about
his neck, and looked up into his face adoringly, “YOU'VE been the 'ONE'
thing that I wanted 'MOST' and I never realised until to-night how--how
crazy you are about things.”
“What things?” asked Alfred, a bit puzzled.
“Well,” said Zoie, letting her eyes fall before his and picking at a bit
of imaginary lint on the coverlet, “babies and things.”
“Oh,” said Alfred, and he was about to proceed when she again
interrupted him.
“But now that I DO realise it,” continued Zoie, earnestly, her fingers
on his lips, lest he again interrupt, “if you'll only have a little
patience with me, I'll--I'll----” again her eyes fell bashfully to the
coverlet, as she considered the possibility of being ultimately obliged
to replace the bogus twins with real ones.
“All the patience in the world,” answered Alfred, little dreaming of the
problem that confronted the contrite Zoie.
“That's all I ask,” declared Zoie, her assurance completely restored,
“and in case anything SHOULD happen to THESE----” she glanced anxiously
toward the door through which Aggie had borne the twins.
“But nothing is going to happen to these, dear,” interrupted Alfred,
rising and again assuming an air of fatherly protection. “I'll attend
to that. There, there,” he added, patting her small shoulder and nodding
his head wisely. “That crazy woman has got on your nerves, but you
needn't worry, I've got everything fixed. Donneghey sent a special
officer over with me. He's outside watching the house, now.”
“Now!” shrieked Zoie, fixing her eyes on the bedroom door, through which
Jimmy had lately disappeared and wondering whether he had yet “slipped”
down the fire-escape.
“Yes,” continued Alfred, walking up and down the floor with a masterly
stride. “If that woman is caught hanging around here again, she'll get a
little surprise. My boys are safe now, God bless them!” Then reminded of
the fact that he had not seen them since his return, he started quickly
toward the bedroom door. “I'll just have a look at the little rascals,”
he decided.
“No, dear,” cried Zoie. She caught Alfred's arm as he passed the side of
her bed, and clung to him in desperation. “Wait a minute.”
Alfred looked down at her in surprise.
She turned her face toward the door, and called lustily, “Aggie! Aggie!”
“What is it, dear?” questioned Alfred, thinking Zoie suddenly ill, “can
I get you something?”
Before Zoie was obliged to reply, Aggie answered her summons.
“Did you call?” she asked, glancing inquiringly into Zoie's distressed
face.
“Alfred's here,” said Zoie, with a sickly smile as she stroked his hand
and glanced meaningly at Aggie. “He's GOT the OFFICER!”
“The OFFICER?” cried Aggie, and involuntarily she took a step backward,
as though to guard the bedroom door.
“Yes,” said Alfred, mistaking Aggie's surprise for a compliment to his
resource; “and now, Aggie, if you'll just stay with Zoie for a minute
I'll have a look at my boys.”
“No, no!” exclaimed Aggie, nervously, and she placed herself again in
front of the bedroom door.
Alfred was plainly annoyed by her proprietory air.
“They're asleep,” explained Aggie.
“I'll not WAKE them,” persisted Alfred, “I just wish to have a LOOK at
them,” and with that he again made a move toward the door.
“But Alfred,” protested Zoie, still clinging to his hand, “you're not
going to leave me again--so soon.”
Alfred was becoming more and more restive under the seeming absurdity of
their persistent opposition, but before he could think of a polite way
of over-ruling them, Aggie continued persuasively.
“You stay with Zoie,” she said. “I'll bring the boys in here and you can
both have a look at them.”
“But Aggie,” argued Alfred, puzzled by her illogical behaviour, “would
it be wise to wake them?”
“Just this once,” said Aggie. “Now you stay here and I'll get them.”
Before Alfred could protest further she was out of the room and the door
had closed behind her, so he resigned himself to her decision, banished
his temporary annoyance at her obstinacy, and glanced about the room
with a new air of proprietorship.
“This is certainly a great night, Zoie,” he said.
“It certainly is,” acquiesced Zoie, with an over emphasis that made
Alfred turn to her with new concern.
“I'm afraid that mad woman made you very nervous, dear,” he said.
“She certainly did,” said Zoie.
Zoie's nerves were destined to bear still further strain, for at that
moment, there came a sharp ring at the door.
Beside herself with anxiety Zoie threw her arms about Alfred, who had
advanced to soothe her, drew him down by her side and buried her head on
his breast.
“You ARE jumpy,” said Alfred, and at that instant a wrangle of loud
voices, and a general commotion was heard in the outer hall. “What's
that?” asked Alfred, endeavouring to disentangle himself from Zoie's
frantic embrace.
Zoie clung to him so tightly that he was unable to rise, but his alert
ear caught the sound of a familiar voice rising above the din of dispute
in the hallway.
“That sounds like the officer,” he exclaimed.
“The officer?” cried Zoie, and she wound her arms more tightly about
him.
CHAPTER XXVII
Propelled by a large red fist, attached to the back of his badly wilted
collar, the writhing form of Jimmy was now thrust through the outer
door.
“Let go of me,” shouted the hapless Jimmy.
The answer was a spasmodic shaking administered by the fist; then a
large burly officer, carrying a small babe in his arms, shoved the
reluctant Jimmy into the centre of the room and stood guard over him.
“I got him for you, sir,” announced the officer proudly, to the
astonished Alfred, who had just managed to untwine Zoie's arms and to
struggle to his feet.
Alfred's eyes fell first upon the dejected Jimmy, then they travelled to
the bundle of long clothes in the officer's arms.
“My boy!” he cried. “My boy!” He snatched the infant from the officer
and pressed him jealously to his breast. “I don't understand,” he said,
gazing at the officer in stupefaction. “Where was he?”
“You mean this one?” asked the officer, nodding toward the unfortunate
Jimmy. “I caught him slipping down your fire-escape.”
“I KNEW it,” exclaimed Zoie in a rage, and she cast a vindictive look at
Jimmy for his awkwardness.
“Knew WHAT, dear?” asked Alfred, now thoroughly puzzled.
Zoie did not answer. Her powers of resource were fast waning. Alfred
turned again to the officer, then to Jimmy, who was still flashing
defiance into the officer's threatening eyes.
“My God!” he exclaimed, “this is awful. What's the matter with you,
Jimmy? This is the third time that you have tried to take my baby out
into the night.”
“Then you've had trouble with him before?” remarked the officer. He
studied Jimmy with new interest, proud in the belief that he had brought
a confirmed “baby-snatcher” to justice.
“I've had a little trouble myself,” declared Jimmy hotly, now resolved
to make a clean breast of it.
“I'm not asking about your troubles,” interrupted the officer savagely,
and Jimmy felt the huge creature's obnoxious fingers tightening again on
his collar. “Go ahead, sir,” said the officer to Alfred.
“Well,” began Alfred, nodding toward the now livid Jimmy, “he was out
with my boy when I arrived. I stopped him from going out with him
a second time, and now you, officer, catch him slipping down the
fire-escape. I don't know what to say,” he finished weakly.
“_I_ do,” exclaimed Jimmy, feeling more and more like a high explosive,
“and I'll say it.”
“Cut it,” shouted the officer. And before Jimmy could get further,
Alfred resumed with fresh vehemence.
“He's supposed to be a friend of mine,” he explained to the officer, as
he nodded toward the wriggling Jimmy. “He was all right when I left him
a few months ago.”
“You'll think I'm all right again,” shouted Jimmy, trying to get free
from the officer, “before I've finished telling all I----”
“That won't help any,” interrupted the officer firmly, and with another
twist of Jimmy's badly wilted collar he turned to Alfred with his most
civil manner, “What shall I do with him, sir?”
“I don't know,” said Alfred, convinced that his friend was a fit subject
for a straight jacket. “This is horrible.”
“It's absurd,” cried Zoie, on the verge of hysterics, and in utter
despair of ever disentangling the present complication without
ultimately losing Alfred, “you're all absurd,” she cried wildly.
“Absurd?” exclaimed Alfred, turning upon her in amazement, “what do you
mean?”
“It's a joke,” said Zoie, without the slightest idea of where the joke
lay. “If you had any sense you could see it.”
“I DON'T see it,” said Alfred, with hurt dignity.
“Neither do I,” said Jimmy, with boiling resentment.
“Can you call it a joke,” asked Alfred, incredulously, “to have our
boy----” He stopped suddenly, remembering that there was a companion
piece to this youngster. “The other one!” he exclaimed, “our other
boy----” He rushed to the crib, found it empty, and turned a terrified
face to Zoie. “Where is he?” he demanded.
“Now, Alfred,” pleaded Zoie, “don't get excited; he's all right.”
“How do you know?” asked the distracted father.
Zoie did not know, but at that moment her eyes fell upon Jimmy, and as
usual he was the source of an inspiration for her.
“Jimmy never cared for the other one,” she said, “did you, Jimmy?”
Alfred turned to the officer, with a tone of command. “Wait,” he said,
then he started toward the bedroom door to make sure that his other
boy was quite safe. The picture that confronted him brought the hair
straight up on his head. True to her promise, and ignorant of Jimmy's
return with the first baby, Aggie had chosen this ill-fated moment to
appear on the threshold with one babe on each arm.
“Here they are,” she said graciously, then stopped in amazement at sight
of the horrified Alfred, clasping a third infant to his breast.
“Good God!” exclaimed Alfred, stroking his forehead with his unoccupied
hand, and gazing at what he firmly believed must be an apparition,
“THOSE aren't MINE,” he pointed to the two red mites in Aggie's arms.
“Wh--why not, Alfred?” stammered Aggie for the want of something better
to say.
“What?” shrieked Alfred. Then he turned in appeal to his young wife,
whose face had now become utterly expressionless. “Zoie?” he entreated.
There was an instant's pause, then the blood returned to Zoie's face and
she proved herself the artist that Alfred had once declared her.
“OURS, dear,” she murmured softly, with a bashful droop of her lids.
“But THIS one?” persisted Alfred, pointing to the baby in his arms, and
feeling sure that his mind was about to give way.
“Why--why--why,” stuttered Zoie, “THAT'S the JOKE.”
“The joke?” echoed Alfred, looking as though he found it anything but
such.
“Yes,” added Aggie, sharing Zoie's desperation to get out of their
temporary difficulty, no matter at what cost in the future. “Didn't
Jimmy tell you?”
“Tell me WHAT?” stammered Alfred, “what IS there to tell?”
“Why, you see,” said Aggie, growing more enthusiastic with each
elaboration of Zoie's lie, “we didn't dare to break it to you too
suddenly.”
“Break it to me?” gasped Alfred; a new light was beginning to dawn on
his face.
“So,” concluded Zoie, now thoroughly at home in the new situation, “we
asked Jimmy to take THAT one OUT.”
Jimmy cast an inscrutable glance in Zoie's direction. Was it possible
that she was at last assisting him out of a difficulty?
“You 'ASKED Jimmy'?” repeated Alfred.
“Yes,” confirmed Aggie, with easy confidence, “we wanted you to get used
to the idea gradually.”
“The idea,” echoed Alfred. He was afraid to allow his mind to accept
too suddenly the whole significance of their disclosure, lest his joy
over-power him. “You--you--do--don't mean----” he stuttered.
“Yes, dear,” sighed Zoie, with the face of an angel, and then with a
languid sigh, she sank back contentedly on her pillows.
“My boys! My boys!” cried Alfred, now delirious with delight. “Give
them to me,” he called to Aggie, and he snatched the surprised infants
savagely from her arms. “Give me ALL of them, ALL of them.” He clasped
the three babes to his breast, then dashed to the bedside of the
unsuspecting Zoie and covered her small face with rapturous kisses.
Feeling the red faces of the little strangers in such close proximity to
hers, Zoie drew away from them with abhorrence, but unconscious of her
unmotherly action, Alfred continued his mad career about the room, his
heart overflowing with gratitude toward Zoie in particular and mankind
in general. Finding Aggie in the path of his wild jubilee, he treated
that bewildered young matron to an unwelcome kiss. A proceeding which
Jimmy did not at all approve.
Hardly had Aggie recovered from her surprise when the disgruntled
Jimmy was startled out of his dark mood by the supreme insult of a
loud resounding kiss implanted on his own cheek by his excitable young
friend. Jimmy raised his arm to resist a second assault, and Alfred
veered off in the direction of the officer, who stepped aside just in
time to avoid similar demonstration from the indiscriminating young
father.
Finding a wide circle prescribed about himself and the babies, Alfred
suddenly stopped and gazed about from one astonished face to the other.
“Well,” said the officer, regarding Alfred with an injured air,
and feeling much downcast at being so ignominiously deprived of his
short-lived heroism in capturing a supposed criminal, “if this is all a
joke, I'll let the woman go.”
“The woman,” repeated Alfred; “what woman?”
“I nabbed a woman at the foot of the fire-escape,” explained the
officer. Zoie and Aggie glanced at each other inquiringly. “I thought
she might be an accomplice.”
“What does she look like, officer?” asked Alfred. His manner was
becoming more paternal, not to say condescending, with the arrival of
each new infant.
“Don't be silly, Alfred,” snapped Zoie, really ashamed that Alfred was
making such an idiot of himself. “It's only the nurse.”
“Oh, that's it,” said Alfred, with a wise nod of comprehension; “the
nurse, then she's in the joke too?” He glanced from one to the other.
They all nodded. “You're all in it,” he exclaimed, flattered to think
that they had considered it necessary to combine the efforts of so many
of them to deceive him.
“Yes,” assented Jimmy sadly, “we are all 'in it.'”
“Well, she's a great actress,” decided Alfred, with the air of a
connoisseur.
“She sure is,” admitted Donneghey, more and more disgruntled as he felt
his reputation for detecting fraud slipping from him. “She put up a
phoney story about the kid being hers,” he added. “But I could tell she
wasn't on the level. Good-night, sir,” he called to Alfred, and ignoring
Jimmy, he passed quickly from the room.
“Oh, officer,” Alfred called after him. “Hang around downstairs. I'll
be down later and fix things up with you.” Again Alfred gave his whole
attention to his new-found family. He leaned over the cradle and gazed
ecstatically into the three small faces below his. “This is too much,”
he murmured.
“Much too much,” agreed Jimmy, who was now sitting hunched up on the
couch in his customary attitude of gloom.
“You were right not to break it to me too suddenly,” said Alfred, and
with his arms encircling three infants he settled himself on the couch
by Jimmy's side. “You're a cute one,” he continued to Jimmy, who was
edging away from the three mites with aversion. In the absence of any
answer from Jimmy, Alfred appealed to Zoie, “Isn't he a cute one, dear?”
he asked.
“Oh, yes, VERY,” answered Zoie, sarcastically.
Shutting his lips tight and glancing at Zoie with a determined effort at
self restraint, Jimmy rose from the couch and started toward the door.
“If you women are done with me,” he said, “I'll clear out.”
“Clear out?” exclaimed Alfred, rising quickly and placing himself
between his old friend and the door. “What a chance,” and he laughed
boisterously. “You're not going to get out of my sight this night,” he
declared. “I'm just beginning to appreciate all you've done for me.”
“So am I,” assented Jimmy, and unconsciously his hand sought the spot
where his dinner should have been, but Alfred was not to be resisted.
“A man needs someone around,” he declared, “when he's going through a
thing like this. I need all of you, all of you,” and with his eyes he
embraced the weary circle of faces about him. “I feel as though I could
go out of my head,” he explained and with that he began tucking the
three small mites in the pink and white crib designed for but one.
Zoie regarded him with a bored expression'
“You act as though you WERE out of your head,” she commented, but Alfred
did not heed her. He was now engaged in the unhoped for bliss of singing
three babies to sleep with one lullaby.
The other occupants of the room were just beginning to relax and to show
some resemblance to their natural selves, when their features were again
simultaneously frozen by a ring at the outside door.
CHAPTER XXVIII
Annoyed at being interrupted in the midst of his lullaby, to three,
Alfred looked up to see Maggie, hatless and out of breath, bursting into
the room, and destroying what was to him an ideally tranquil home scene.
But Maggie paid no heed to Alfred's look of inquiry. She made directly
for the side of Zoie's bed.
“If you plaze, mum,” she panted, looking down at Zoie, and wringing her
hands.
“What is it?” asked Aggie, who had now reached the side of the bed.
“'Scuse me for comin' right in”--Maggie was breathing hard--“but me
mother sint me to tell you that me father is jus afther comin' home from
work, and he's fightin' mad about the babies, mum.”
“Sh! Sh!” cautioned Aggie and Zoie, as they glanced nervously toward
Alfred who was rising from his place beside the cradle with increasing
interest in Maggie's conversation.
“Babies?” he repeated, “your father is mad about babies?”
“It's all right, dear,” interrupted Zoie nervously; “you see,” she
went on to explain, pointing toward the trembling Maggie, “this is our
washerwoman's little girl. Our washerwoman has had twins, too, and it
made the wash late, and her husband is angry about it.”
“Oh,” said Alfred, with a comprehensive nod, but Maggie was not to be so
easily disposed of.
“If you please, mum,” she objected, “it ain't about the wash. It's about
our baby girls.”
“Girls?” exclaimed Zoie involuntarily.
“Girls?” repeated Alfred, drawing himself up in the fond conviction that
all his heirs were boys, “No wonder your pa's angry. I'd be angry too.
Come now,” he said to Maggie, patting the child on the shoulder and
regarding her indulgently, “you go straight home and tell your father
that what HE needs is BOYS.”
“Well, of course, sir,” answered the bewildered Maggie, thinking that
Alfred meant to reflect upon the gender of the offspring donated by her
parents, “if you ain't afther likin' girls, me mother sint the money
back,” and with that she began to feel for the pocket in her red flannel
petticoat.
“The money?” repeated Alfred, in a puzzled way, “what money?”
It was again Zoie's time to think quickly.
“The money for the wash, dear,” she explained.
“Nonsense!” retorted Alfred, positively beaming generosity, “who talks
of money at such a time as this?” And taking a ten dollar bill from his
pocket, he thrust it in Maggie's outstretched hand, while she was trying
to return to him the original purchase money. “Here,” he said to the
astonished girl, “you take this to your father. Tell him I sent it to
him for his babies. Tell him to start a bank account with it.”
This was clearly not a case with which one small addled mind could deal,
or at least, so Maggie decided. She had a hazy idea that Alfred was
adding something to the original purchase price of her young sisters,
but she was quite at a loss to know how to refuse the offer of such
a “grand 'hoigh” gentleman, even though her failure to do so would no
doubt result in a beating when she reached home. She stared at Alfred
undecided what to do, the money still lay in her outstretched hand.
“I'm afraid Pa'll niver loike it, sir,” she said.
“Like it?” exclaimed Alfred in high feather, and he himself closed her
red little fingers over the bill, “he's GOT to like it. He'll GROW to
like it. Now you run along,” he concluded to Maggie, as he urged her
toward the door, “and tell him what I say.”
“Yes, sir,” murmured Maggie, far from sharing Alfred's enthusiasm.
Feeling no desire to renew his acquaintance with Maggie, particularly
under Alfred's watchful eye, Jimmy had sought his old refuge, the high
backed chair. As affairs progressed and there seemed no doubt of Zoie's
being able to handle the situation to the satisfaction of all concerned,
Jimmy allowed exhaustion and the warmth of the firelight to have their
way with him. His mind wandered toward other things and finally into
space. His head dropped lower and lower on his chest; his breathing
became laboured--so laboured in fact that it attracted the attention of
Maggie, who was about to pass him on her way to the door.
“Sure an it's Mr. Jinks!” exclaimed Maggie. Then coming close to the
side of the unsuspecting sleeper, she hissed a startling message in his
ear. “Me mother said to tell you that me fadder's hoppin' mad at you,
sir.”
Jimmy sat up and rubbed his eyes. He studied the young person at his
elbow, then he glanced at Alfred, utterly befuddled as to what had
happened while he had been on a journey to happier scenes. Apparently
Maggie was waiting for an answer to something, but to what? Jimmy
thought he detected an ominous look in Alfred's eyes. Letting his hand
fall over the arm of the chair so that Alfred could not see it, Jimmy
began to make frantic signals to Maggie to depart; she stared at him the
harder.
“Go away,” whispered Jimmy, but Maggie did not move. “Shoo, shoo!” he
said, and waved her off with his hand.
Puzzled by Jimmy's sudden aversion to this apparently harmless child,
Alfred turned to Maggie with a puckered brow.
“Your father's mad at Jimmy?” he repeated. “What about?”
For once Jimmy found it in his heart to be grateful to Zoie for the
prompt answer that came from her direction.
“The wash, dear,” said Zoie to Alfred; “Jimmy had to go after the wash,”
and then with a look which Maggie could not mistake for an invitation to
stop longer, Zoie called to her haughtily, “You needn't wait, Maggie; we
understand.”
“Sure, an' it's more 'an I do,” answered Maggie, and shaking her head
sadly, she slipped from the room.
But Alfred could not immediately dismiss from his mind the picture of
Maggie's inhuman parent.
“Just fancy,” he said, turning his head to one side meditatively, “fancy
any man not liking to be the father of twins,” and with that he again
bent over the cradle and surveyed its contents. “Think, Jimmy,” he said,
when he had managed to get the three youngsters in his arms, “just think
of the way THAT father feels, and then think of the way _I_ feel.”
“And then think of the way _I_ feel,” grumbled Jimmy.
“You!” exclaimed Alfred; “what have you to feel about?”
Before Jimmy could answer, the air was rent by a piercing scream and a
crash of glass from the direction of the inner rooms.
“What's that?” whispered Aggie, with an anxious glance toward Zoie.
“Sounded like breaking glass,” said Alfred.
“Burglars!” exclaimed Zoie, for want of anything better to suggest.
“Burglars?” repeated Alfred with a superior air; “nonsense! Nonsense!
Here,” he said, turning to Jimmy, “you hold the boys and I'll go
see----” and before Jimmy was aware of the honour about to be thrust
upon him, he felt three red, spineless morsels, wriggling about in his
arms. He made what lap he could for the armful, and sat up in a stiff,
strained attitude on the edge of the couch. In the meantime, Alfred had
strode into the adjoining room with the air of a conqueror. Aggie looked
at Zoie, with dreadful foreboding.
“You don't suppose it could be?” she paused.
“My baby!” shrieked the voice of the Italian mother from the adjoining
room. “Where IS he?”
Regardless of the discomfort of his three disgruntled charges, Jimmy
began to circle the room. So agitated was his mind that he could
scarcely hear Aggie, who was reporting proceedings from her place at the
bedroom door.
“She's come up the fire-escape,” cried Aggie; “she's beating Alfred to
death.”
“What?” shrieked Zoie, making a flying leap from her coverlets.
“She's locking him in the bathroom,” declared Aggie, and with that she
disappeared from the room, bent on rescue.
“My Alfred!” cried Zoie, tragically, and she started in pursuit of
Aggie.
“Wait a minute,” called Jimmy, who had not yet been able to find
a satisfactory place in which to deposit his armful of clothes and
humanity. “What shall I do with these things?”
“Eat 'em,” was Zoie's helpful retort, as the trailing end of her
negligee disappeared from the room.
CHAPTER XXIX
Now, had Jimmy been less perturbed during the latter part of this
commotion, he might have heard the bell of the outside door, which
had been ringing violently for some minutes. As it was, he was wholly
unprepared for the flying advent of Maggie.
“Oh, plaze, sir,” she cried, pointing with trembling fingers toward
the babes in Jimmy's arms, “me fadder's coming right behind me. He's
a-lookin' for you sir.”
“For me,” murmured Jimmy, wondering vaguely why everybody on earth
seemed to be looking for HIM.
“Put 'em down, sir,” cried Maggie, still pointing to the three babies,
“put 'em down. He's liable to wallop you.”
“Put 'em where?” asked Jimmy, now utterly confused as to which way to
turn.
“There,” said Maggie, and she pointed to the cradle beneath his very
eyes.
“Of course,” said Jimmy vapidly, and he sank on his knees and strove to
let the wobbly creatures down easily.
Bang went the outside door.
“That's Pa now,” cried Maggie. “Oh hide, sir, hide.” And with that
disconcerting warning, she too deserted him.
“Hide where?” gasped Jimmy.
There was a moment's awful silence. Jimmy rose very cautiously from the
cradle, his eyes sought the armchair. It had always betrayed him. He
glanced toward the window. It was twelve stories to the pavement. He
looked towards the opposite door; beyond that was the mad Italian woman.
His one chance lay in slipping unnoticed through the hallway; he made
a determined dash in that direction, but no sooner had he put his head
through the door, than he drew it back quickly. The conversation between
O'Flarety and the maid in the hallway was not reassuring. Jimmy decided
to take a chance with the Italian mother, and as fast as he could, he
streaked it toward the opposite door. The shrieks and denunciations that
he met from this direction were more disconcerting than those of
the Irish father. For an instant he stood in the centre of the room,
wavering as to which side to surrender himself.
The thunderous tones of the enraged father drew nearer; he threw himself
on the floor and attempted to roll under the bed; the space between the
railing and the floor was far too narrow. Why had he disregarded Aggie's
advice as to diet? The knob of the door handle was turning--he vaulted
into the bed and drew the covers over his head just as O'Flarety,
trembling with excitement, and pursued by Maggie, burst into the room.
“Lave go of me,” cried O'Flarety to Maggie, who clung to his arm in a
vain effort to soothe him, and flinging her off, he made straight for
the bed.
“Ah,” he cried, gazing with dilated nostrils at the trembling object
beneath the covers, “there you are, mum,” and he shook his fist above
what he believed to be the cowardly Mrs. Hardy. “'Tis well ye may cover
up your head,” said he, “for shame on yez! Me wife may take in washing,
but when I comes home at night I wants me kids, and I'll be after havin'
'em too. Where ar' they?” he demanded. Then getting no response from the
agitated covers, he glanced wildly about the room. “Glory be to God!”
he exclaimed as his eyes fell on the crib; but he stopped short in
astonishment, when upon peering into it, he found not one, or two, but
three “barren.”
“They're child stalers, that's what they are,” he declared to Maggie,
as he snatched Bridget and Norah to his no doubt comforting breast. “Me
little Biddy,” he crooned over his much coveted possession. “Me little
Norah,” he added fondly, looking down at his second. The thought of his
narrow escape from losing these irreplaceable treasures rekindled
his wrath. Again he strode toward the bed and looked down at the now
semi-quiet comforter.
“The black heart of ye, mum,” he roared, then ordering Maggie to give
back “every penny of that shameless creetur's money” he turned toward
the door.
So intense had been O'Flarety's excitement and so engrossed was he in
his denunciation that he had failed to see the wild-eyed Italian woman
rushing toward him from the opposite door.
“You, you!” cried the frenzied woman and, to O'Flarety's astonishment,
she laid two strong hands upon his arm and drew him round until he faced
her. “Where are you going with my baby?” she asked, then peering into
the face of the infant nearest to her, she uttered a disappointed
moan. “'Tis not my baby!” she cried. She scanned the face of the second
infant--again she moaned.
Having begun to identify this hysterical creature as the possible mother
of the third infant, O'Flarety jerked his head in the direction of the
cradle.
“I guess you'll find what you're lookin' for in there,” he said. Then
bidding Maggie to “git along out o' this” and shrugging his shoulders
to convey his contempt for the fugitive beneath the coverlet, he swept
quickly from the room.
Clasping her long-sought darling to her heart and weeping with delight,
the Italian mother was about to follow O'Flarety through the door when
Zoie staggered into the room, weak and exhausted.
“You, you!” called the indignant Zoie to the departing mother. “How dare
you lock my husband in the bathroom?” She pointed to the key, which the
woman still unconsciously clasped in her hand. “Give me that key,” she
demanded, “give it to me this instant.”
“Take your horrid old key,” said the mother, and she threw it on the
floor. “If you ever try to get my baby again, I'll lock your husband in
JAIL,” and murmuring excited maledictions in her native tongue, she took
her welcome departure.
Zoie stooped for the key, one hand to her giddy head, but Aggie, who had
just returned to the room, reached the key first and volunteered to go
to the aid of the captive Alfred, who was pounding desperately on the
bathroom door and demanding his instant release.
“I'll let him out,” said Aggie. “You get into bed,” and she slipped
quickly from the room.
Utterly exhausted and half blind with fatigue Zoie lifted the coverlet
and slipped beneath it. Her first sensation was of touching something
rough and scratchy, then came the awful conviction that the thing
against which she lay was alive.
Without stopping to investigate the identity of her uninvited
bed-fellow, or even daring to look behind her, Zoie fled from the room
emitting a series of screams that made all her previous efforts in that
direction seem mere baby cries. So completely had Jimmy been enveloped
in the coverlets and for so long a time that he had acquired a vague
feeling of aloftness toward the rest of his fellows, and had lost all
knowledge of their goings and comings. But when his unexpected companion
was thrust upon him he was galvanised into sudden action by her scream,
and swathed in a large pink comforter, he rolled ignominiously from the
upper side of the bed, where he lay on the floor panting and enmeshed,
awaiting further developments. Of one thing he was certain, a great deal
had transpired since he had sought the friendly solace of the covers and
he had no mind to lose so good a friend as the pink comforter. By the
time he had summoned sufficient courage to peep from under its edge, a
babel of voices was again drawing near, and he hastily drew back in his
shell and waited.
Not daring to glance at the scene of her fright, Zoie pushed Aggie
before her into the room and demanded that she look in the bed.
Seeing the bed quite empty and noticing nothing unusual in the fact that
the pink comforter, along with other covers, had slipped down behind it,
Aggie hastened to reassure her terrified friend.
“You imagined it, Zoie,” she declared, “look for yourself.”
Zoie's small face peeped cautiously around the edge of the doorway.
“Well, perhaps I did,” she admitted; then she slipped gingerly into the
room, “my nerves are jumping like fizzy water.”
They were soon to “jump” more, for at this instant, Alfred, burning with
anger at the indignity of having been locked in the bathroom, entered
the room, demanding to know the whereabouts of the lunatic mother, who
had dared to make him a captive in his own house.
“Where is she?” he called to Zoie and Aggie, and his eye roved wildly
about the room. Then his mind reverted with anxiety to his newly
acquired offspring. “My boys!” he cried, and he rushed toward the crib.
“They're gone!” he declared tragically.
“Gone?” echoed Aggie.
“Not ALL of them,” said Zoie.
“All,” insisted Alfred, and his hands went distractedly toward his head.
“She's taken them all.”
Zoie and Aggie looked at each other in a dazed way. They had a hazy
recollection of having seen one babe disappear with the Italian woman,
but what had become of the other two?
“Where did they go?” asked Aggie.
“I don't know,” said Zoie, with the first truth she had spoken that
night, “I left them with Jimmy.”
“Jimmy!” shrieked Alfred, and a diabolical light lit his features.
“Jimmy!” he snorted, with sudden comprehension, “then he's at it again.
He's crazy as she is. This is inhuman. This joke has got to stop!” And
with that decision he started toward the outer door.
“But Allie!” protested Zoie, really alarmed by the look that she saw on
his face.
Alfred turned to his trembling wife with suppressed excitement, and
patted her shoulder condescendingly.
“Control yourself, my dear,” he said. “Control yourself; I'll get
your babies for you--trust me, I'll get them. And then,” he added with
parting emphasis from the doorway, “I'll SETTLE WITH JIMMY!”
By uncovering one eye, Jimmy could now perceive that Zoie and Aggie
were engaged in a heated argument at the opposite side of the room. By
uncovering one ear he learned that they were arranging a line of action
for him immediately upon his reappearance. He determined not to wait for
the details.
Fixing himself cautiously on all fours, and making sure that he was
well covered by the pink comforter, he began to crawl slowly toward the
bedroom door.
Turning away from Aggie with an impatient exclamation, Zoie suddenly
beheld what seemed to her a large pink monster with protruding claws
wriggling its way hurriedly toward the inner room.
“Look!” she screamed, and pointing in horror toward the dreadful
creature now dragging itself across the threshold, she sank fainting
into Aggie's outstretched arms.
CHAPTER XXX
Having dragged the limp form of her friend to the near-by couch, Aggie
was bending over her to apply the necessary restoratives, when Alfred
returned in triumph. He was followed by the officer in whose arms were
three infants, and behind whom was the irate O'Flarety, the hysterical
Italian woman, and last of all, Maggie.
“Bring them all in here, officer,” called Alfred over his shoulder.
“I'll soon prove to you whose babies those are.” Then turning to Aggie,
who stood between him and the fainting Zoie he cried triumphantly,
“I've got them Aggie, I've got them.” He glanced toward the empty bed.
“Where's Zoie?” he asked.
“She's fainted,” said Aggie, and stepping from in front of the young
wife, she pointed toward the couch.
“Oh, my darling!” cried Alfred, with deep concern as he rushed to Zoie
and began frantically patting her hands. “My poor frightened darling!”
Then he turned to the officer, his sense of injury welling high within
him, “You see what these people have done to my wife? She's fainted.”
Ignoring the uncomplimentary remarks of O'Flarety, he again bent over
Zoie.
“Rouse yourself, my dear,” he begged of her. “Look at me,” he pleaded.
“Your babies are safe.”
“HER babies!” snorted O'Flarety, unable longer to control his pent up
indignation.
“I'll let you know when I want to hear from you,” snarled the officer to
O'Flarety.
“But they're NOT her babies,” protested the Italian woman desperately.
“Cut it,” shouted the officer, and with low mutterings, the outraged
parents were obliged to bide their time.
Lifting Zoie to a sitting posture Alfred fanned her gently until she
regained her senses. “Your babies are all right,” he assured her. “I've
brought them all back to you.”
“All?” gasped Zoie weakly, and she wondered what curious fate had been
intervening to assist Alfred in such a prodigious undertaking.
“Yes, dear,” said Alfred, “every one,” and he pointed toward the three
infants in the officer's arms. “See, dear, see.”
Zoie turned her eyes upon what SEEMED to her numberless red faces. “Oh!”
she moaned and again she swooned.
“I told you she'd be afraid to face us,” shouted the now triumphant
O'Flarety.
“You brute!” retorted the still credulous Alfred, “how dare you
persecute this poor demented mother?”
Alfred's persistent solicitude for Zoie was too much for the resentful
Italian woman.
“She didn't persecute me, oh no!” she exclaimed sarcastically.
“Keep still, you!” commanded the officer.
Again Zoie was reviving and again Alfred lifted her in his arms and
begged her to assure the officer that the babies in question were hers.
“Let's hear her SAY it,” demanded O'Flarety.
“You SHALL hear her,” answered Alfred, with confidence. Then he beckoned
to the officer to approach, explaining that Zoie was very weak.
“Sure,” said the officer; then planting himself directly in front of
Zoie's half closed eyes, he thrust the babies upon her attention.
“Look, Zoie!” pleaded Alfred. “Look!”
Zoie opened her eyes to see three small red faces immediately opposite
her own.
“Take them away!” she cried, with a frantic wave of her arm, “take them
away!”
“What?” exclaimed Alfred in astonishment.
“What did I tell you?” shouted O'Flarety. This hateful reminder brought
Alfred again to the protection of his young and defenceless wife.
“The excitement has unnerved her,” he said to the officer.
“Ain't you about done with my kids?” asked O'Flarety, marvelling how any
man with so little penetration as the officer, managed to hold down a
“good payin' job.”
“What do you want for your proof anyway?” asked the mother. But Alfred's
faith in the validity of his new parenthood was not to be so easily
shaken.
“My wife is in no condition to be questioned,” he declared. “She's out
of her head, and if you don't----”
He stepped suddenly, for without warning, the door was thrown open and a
second officer strode into their midst dragging by the arm the reluctant
Jimmy.
“I guess I've got somethin' here that you folks need in your business,”
he called, nodding toward the now utterly demoralised Jimmy.
“Jimmy!” exclaimed Aggie, having at last got her breath.
“The Joker!” cried Alfred, bearing down upon the panting Jimmy with a
ferocious expression.
“I caught him slipping down the fire-escape,” explained the officer.
“Again?” exclaimed Aggie and Alfred in tones of deep reproach.
“Jimmy,” said Alfred, coming close to his friend, and fixing his eyes
upon him in a determined effort to control the poor creature's fast
failing faculties, “you know the truth of this thing. You are the one
who sent me that telegram, you are the one who told me that I was a
father.”
“Well, aren't you a father?” asked Aggie, trying to protect her dejected
spouse.
“Of course I am,” replied Alfred, with every confidence, “but I have to
prove it to the officer. Jimmy knows,” he concluded. Then turning to
the uncomfortable man at his side, he demanded imperatively, “Tell the
officer the truth, you idiot. No more of your jokes. Am I a father or am
I not?”
“If you're depending on ME for your future offspring,” answered Jimmy,
wagging his head with the air of a man reckless of consequences, “you
are NOT a father.”
“Depending on YOU?” gasped Alfred, and he stared at his friend in
bewilderment. “What do you mean by that?”
“Ask them,” answered Jimmy, and he nodded toward Zoie and Aggie.
Alfred appealed to Aggie.
“Ask Zoie,” said Aggie.
Alfred bent over the form of the again prostrate Zoie. “My darling,”
he entreated, “rouse yourself.” Slowly she opened her eyes. “Now,” said
Alfred, with enforced self-control, “you must look the officer squarely
in the eye and tell him whose babies those are,” and he nodded toward
the officer, who was now beginning to entertain grave doubts on the
subject.
“How should _I_ know?” cried Zoie, too exhausted for further lying.
“What!” exclaimed Alfred, his hand on his forehead.
“I only borrowed them,” said Zoie, “to get you home,” and with that she
sank back on the couch and closed her eyes.
“What did I tell you?” cried the triumphant O'Flarety.
“I guess they're your'n all right,” admitted the officer doggedly, and
he grudgingly released the three infants to their rightful parents.
“I guess they'd better be,” shouted O'Flarety; then he and the Italian
woman made for the door with their babes pressed close to their hearts.
“Wait a minute,” cried Alfred. “I want an understanding.”
O'Flarety turned in the doorway and raised a warning fist.
“If you don't leave my kids alone, you'll GIT 'an understanding.'”
“Me too,” added the mother.
“On your way,” commanded the officer to the pair of them, and together
with Maggie and the officer, they disappeared forever from the Hardy
household.
Alfred gazed about the room. “My God!” he exclaimed; then he turned to
Jimmy who was still in the custody of the second officer: “If I'm not a
father, what am I?”
“I'd hate to tell you,” was Jimmy's unsympathetic reply, and in utter
dejection Alfred sank on the foot of the bed and buried his head in his
hands.
“What shall I do with this one, sir?” asked the officer, undecided as to
Jimmy's exact standing in the household.
“Shoot him, for all I care,” groaned Alfred, and he rocked to and fro.
“How ungrateful!” exclaimed Aggie, then she signalled to the officer to
go.
“No more of your funny business,” said the officer with a parting nod at
Jimmy and a vindictive light in his eyes when he remembered the bruises
that Jimmy had left on his shins.
“Oh, Jimmy!” said Aggie sympathetically, and she pressed her hot face
against his round apoplectic cheek. “You poor dear! And after all you
have done for us!”
“Yes,” sneered Zoie, having regained sufficient strength to stagger to
her feet, “he's done a lot, hasn't he?” And then forgetting that her
original adventure with Jimmy which had brought about such disastrous
results was still unknown to Aggie and Alfred, she concluded bitterly,
“All this would never have happened, if it hadn't been for Jimmy and his
horrid old luncheon.”
Jimmy was startled. This was too much, and just as he had seemed to be
well out of complications for the remainder of his no doubt short life.
He turned to bolt for the door but Aggie's eyes were upon him.
“Luncheon?” exclaimed Aggie and she regarded him with a puzzled frown.
Zoie's hand was already over her lips, but too late.
Recovering from his somewhat bewildering sense of loss, Alfred, too, was
now beginning to sit up and take notice.
“What luncheon?” he demanded.
Zoie gazed from Alfred to Aggie, then at Jimmy, then resolving to make
a clean breast of the matter, she sidled toward Alfred with her most
ingratiating manner.
“Now, Alfred,” she purred, as she endeavoured to act one arm about
his unsuspecting neck, “if you'll only listen, I'll tell you the REAL
TRUTH.”
A wild despairing cry from Alfred, a dash toward the door by Jimmy, and
a determined effort on Aggie's part to detain her spouse, temporarily
interrupted Zoie's narrative.
But in spite of these discouragements, Zoie did eventually tell Alfred
the real truth, and before the sun had risen on the beginning of another
day, she had added to her confession, promises whose happy fulfillment
was evidenced for many years after by the chatter of glad young voices,
up and down the stairway of Alfred's new suburban home, and the flutter
of golden curls in and out amongst the sunlight and shadows of his
ample, well kept grounds.