“Wait, Jimmy,” commanded Aggie. But it was not until she had laid firm hold of him that he waited.
Surprised by such strange behaviour on the part of those whom she considered her superiors, Maggie looked first at Aggie, then at Jimmy, then at Zoie, uncertain whether to go or to stay.
“Anythin’ to go back, mum?” she stammered.
Zoie stared at Maggie solemnly from across the foot of the bed. “Maggie,” she asked in a deep, sepulchral tone, “where do you live?”
“Just around the corner on High Street, mum,” gasped Maggie. Then, keeping her eyes fixed uneasily on Zoie she picked up her basket and backed cautiously toward the door.
“Wait!” commanded Zoie; and Maggie paused, one foot in mid-air. “Wait in the hall,” said Zoie.
“Yes’um,” assented Maggie, almost in a whisper. Then she nodded her head jerkily, cast another furtive glance at the three persons who were regarding her so strangely, and slipped quickly through the door.
Having crossed the room and stealthily closed the door, Aggie returned to Jimmy, who was watching her with the furtive expression of a trapped animal.
“It’s Providence,” she declared, with a grave countenance.
Jimmy looked up at Aggie with affected innocence, then rolled his round eyes away from her. He was confronted by Zoie, who had approached from the opposite side of the room.
“It’s Fate,” declared Zoie, in awe-struck tones.
Jimmy was beginning to wriggle, but he kept up a last desperate presence of not understanding them.
“You needn’t tell me I’m going to take the wash to the old lady,” he said, “for I’m not going to do it.”
“It isn’t the WASH,” said Aggie, and her tone warned him that she expected no nonsense from him.
“You know what we are thinking about just as well as we do,” said Zoie. “I’ll write that washerwoman a note and tell her we must have one of those babies right now.” And with that she turned toward her desk and began rummaging amongst her papers for a pencil and pad. “The luck of these poor,” she murmured.
“The luck of US,” corrected Aggie, whose spirits were now soaring. Then she turned to Jimmy with growing enthusiasm. “Just think of it, dear,” she said, “Fate has sent us a baby to our very door.”
“Well,” declared Jimmy, again beginning to show signs of fight, “if Fate has sent a baby to the door, you don’t need me,” and with that he snatched his coat from the crib.
“Wait, Jimmy,” again commanded Aggie, and she took his coat gently but firmly from him.
“Now, see here,” argued Jimmy, trying to get free from his strong-minded spouse, “you know perfectly well that that washerwoman isn’t going to let us have that baby.”
“Nonsense,” called Zoie over her shoulder, while she scribbled a hurried note to the washerwoman. “If she won’t let us have it ‘for keeps,’ I’ll just ‘rent it.’ “
“Good Lord!” exclaimed Jimmy in genuine horror. “Warm, fresh, palpitating babies rented as you would rent a gas stove!”
“That’s all a pose,” declared Aggie, in a matter-of-fact tone. “You think babies ‘little red worms,’ you’ve said so.”
Jimmy could not deny it.
“She’ll be only too glad to rent it,” declared Zoie, as she glanced hurriedly through the note just written, and slipped it, together with a bill, into an envelope. “I’ll pay her anything. It’s only until I can get another one.”
“Another!” shouted Jimmy, and his eyes turned heavenward for help. “An endless chain with me to put the links together!”
“Don’t be so theatrical,” said Aggie, irritably, as she took up Jimmy’s coat and prepared to get him into it.
“Why DO you make such a fuss about NOTHING,” sighed Zoie.
“Nothing?” echoed Jimmy, and he looked at her with wondering eyes. “I crawl about like a thief in the night snatching babies from their mother’s breasts, and you call THAT nothing?”
“You don’t have to ‘CRAWL,’ ” reminded Zoie, “you can take a taxi.”
“Here’s your coat, dear,” said Aggie graciously, as she endeavoured to slip Jimmy’s limp arms into the sleeves of the garment.
“You can take Maggie with you,” said Zoie, with the air of conferring a distinct favour upon him.
“And the wash on my lap,” added Jimmy sarcastically.
“No,” said Zoie, unruffled by Jimmy’s ungracious behaviour. “We’ll send the wash later.”
“That’s very kind of you,” sneered Jimmy, as he unconsciously allowed his arms to slip into the sleeves of the coat Aggie was urging upon him.
“All you need to do,” said Aggie complacently, “is to get us the baby.”
“Yes,” said Jimmy, “and what do you suppose my friends would say if they were to see me riding around town with the wash-lady’s daughter and a baby on my lap? What would YOU say?” he asked Aggie, “if you didn’t know the facts?”
“Nobody’s going to see you,” answered Aggie impatiently; “it’s only around the corner. Go on, Jimmy, be a good boy.”
“You mean a good thing,” retorted Jimmy without budging from the spot.
“How ridiculous!” exclaimed Zoie; “it’s as easy as can be.”
“Yes, the FIRST one SOUNDED easy, too,” said Jimmy.
“All you have to do,” explained Zoie, trying to restrain her rising intolerance of his stupidity, “is to give this note to Maggie’s mother. She’ll give you her baby, you bring it back here, we’ll give you THIS one, and you can take it right back to the Home.”
“And meet the other mother,” concluded Jimmy with a shake of his head.
There was a distinct threat in Zoie’s voice when she again addressed the stubborn Jimmy and the glitter of triumph was in her eyes.
“You’d better meet here THERE than HERE,” she warned him; “you know what the Superintendent said.”
“That’s true,” agreed Aggie with an anxious face. “Come now,” she pleaded, “it will only take a minute; you can do the whole thing before you have had time to think.”
“Before I have had time to think,” repeated Jimmy excitedly. “That’s how you get me to do everything. Well, this time I’ve HAD time to think and I don’t think I will!” and with that he threw himself upon the couch, unmindful of the damage to the freshly laundered clothes.
“Get up,” cried Zoie.
“You haven’t time to sit down,” said Aggie.
“I’ll TAKE time,” declared Jimmy. His eyes blinked ominously and he remained glued to the couch.
There was a short silence; the two women gazed at Jimmy in despair. Remembering a fresh grievance, Jimmy turned upon them.
“By the way,” he said, “do you two know that I haven’t had anything to eat yet?”
“And do you know,” said Zoie, “that Alfred may be back at any minute? He can’t stay away forever.”
“Not unless he has cut his throat,” rejoined Jimmy, “and that’s what I’d do if I had a razor.”
Zoie regarded Jimmy as though he were beyond redemption. “Can’t you ever think of anybody but yourself?” she asked, with a martyred air.
Had Jimmy been half his age, Aggie would have felt sure that she saw him make a face at her friend for answer. As it was, she resolved to make one last effort to awaken her unobliging spouse to a belated sense of duty.
“You see, dear,” she said, “you might better get the washerwoman’s baby than to go from house to house for one,” and she glanced again toward the paper.
“Yes,” urged Zoie, “and that’s just what you’ll HAVE to do, if you don’t get this one.”
Jimmy’s head hung dejectedly. It was apparent that his courage was slipping from him. Aggie was quick to realise her opportunity, and before Jimmy could protect himself from her treacherous wiles, she had slipped one arm coyly about his neck.
“Now, Jimmy,” she pleaded as she pressed her soft cheek to his throbbing temple, and toyed with the bay curl on his perspiring forehead, “wont you do this little teeny-weepy thing just for me?”
Jimmy’s lips puckered in a pout; he began to blink nervously. Aggie slipped her other arm about his neck.
“You know,” she continued with a baby whine, “I got Zoie into this, and I’ve just got to get her out of it. You’re not going to desert me, are you, Jimmy? You WILL help me, won’t you, dear?” Her breath was on Jimmy’s cheek; he could feel her lips stealing closer to his. He had not been treated to much affection of late. His head drooped lower–he began to twiddle the fob on his watch chain. “Won’t you?” persisted Aggie.
Jimmy studied the toes of his boots.
“Won’t you?” she repeated, and her soft eyelashes just brushed the tip of his retrousee nose.
Jimmy’s head was now wagging from side to side.
“Won’t you?” she entreated a fourth time, and she kissed him full on the lips.
With a resigned sigh, Jimmy rose mechanically from the heap of crushed laundry and held out his fat chubby hand.
“Give me the letter,” he groaned.
“Here you are,” said Zoie, taking Jimmy’s acquiescence as a matter of course; and she thrust the letter into the pocket of Jimmy’s ulster. “Now, when you get back with the baby,” she continued, “don’t come in all of a sudden; just wait outside and whistle. You CAN WHISTLE, can’t you?” she asked with a doubtful air.
For answer, Jimmy placed two fingers between his lips and produced a shrill whistle that made both Zoie and Aggie glance nervously toward Alfred’s bedroom door.
“Yes, you can WHISTLE,” admitted Zoie, then she continued her directions. “If Alfred is not in the room, I’ll raise the shade and you can come right up.”
“And if he is in the room?” asked Jimmy with a fine shade of sarcasm.
“If he IS in the room,” explained Zoie, “you must wait outside until I can get rid of him.”
Jimmy turned his eyes toward Aggie to ask if it were possible that she still approved of Zoie’s inhuman plan. For answer Aggie stroked his coat collar fondly.
“We’ll give you the signal the moment the coast is clear,” she said, then she hurriedly buttoned Jimmy’s large ulster and wound a muffler about his neck. “There now, dear, do go, you’re all buttoned up,” and with that she urged him toward the door.
“Just a minute,” protested Jimmy, as he paused on the threshold. “Let me get this right, if the shade is up, I stay down.”
“Not at all,” corrected Aggie and Zoie in a breath. “If the shade is up, you come up.”
Jimmy cast another martyred look in Zoie’s direction.
“You won’t hurry will you?” he said, “you know it is only twenty-three below zero and I haven’t had anything to eat yet–and—-“
“Yes, we know,” interrupted the two women in chorus, and then Aggie added wearily, “go on, Jimmy; don’t be funny.”
“Funny?” snorted Jimmy. “With a baby on my lap and the wash lady’s daughter, I won’t be funny, oh no!”
It is doubtful whether Jimmy would not have worked himself into another state of open rebellion had not Aggie put an end to his protests by thrusting him firmly out of the room and closing the door behind him. After this act of heroic decision on her part, the two women listened intently, fearing that he might return; but presently they heard the bang of the outer door, and at last they drew a long breath of relief. For the first time since Alfred’s arrival, Aggie was preparing to sink into a chair, when she was startled by a sharp exclamation from Zoie.
“Good heavens,” cried Zoie, “I forgot to ask Maggie.”
“Ask her what?” questioned Aggie.
“Boys or girls,” said Zoie, with a solemn look toward the door through which Jimmy had just disappeared.
“Well,” decided Aggie, after a moment’s reflection, “it’s too late now. Anyway,” she concluded philosophically, “we couldn’t CHANGE it.”
CHAPTER XX
With more or less damage to himself consequent on his excitement, Alfred completed his shaving and hastened to return to his wife and the babe. Finding the supposedly ill Zoie careering about the centre of the room expostulating with Aggie, the young man stopped dumbfounded on the threshold.
“Zoie,” he cried in astonishment. “What are you doing out of bed?”
For an instant the startled Zoie gazed at him stupefied.
“Why, I–I—-” Her eyes sought Aggie’s for a suggestion; there was no answer there. It was not until her gaze fell upon the cradle that she was seized by the desired inspiration.
“I just got up to see baby,” she faltered, then putting one hand giddily to her head, she pretended to sway.
In an instant Alfred’s arms were about her. He bore her quickly to the bed. “You stay here, my darling,” he said tenderly. “I’ll bring baby to you,” and after a solicitous caress he turned toward baby’s crib and bent fondly over the little one. “Ah, there’s father’s man,” he said. “Was he lonesome baby? Oh, goodis g’acious,” then followed an incoherent muttering of baby talk, as he bore the youngster toward Zoie’s bed. “Come, my precious,” he called to Zoie, as he sank down on the edge of the bed. “See mother’s boy.”
“Mother!” shrieked Zoie in horror. It had suddenly dawned upon her that this was the name by which Alfred would no doubt call her for the rest of her life. She almost detested him.
But Alfred did not see the look of disgust on Zoie’s face. He was wholly absorbed by baby.
“What a funny face,” he cooed as he pinched the youngster’s cheek. “Great Scott, what a grip,” he cried as the infant’s fingers closed around his own. “Will you look at the size of those hands,” he exclaimed.
Zoie and Aggie exchanged worried glances; the baby had no doubt inherited his large hands from his mother.
“Say, Aggie,” called Alfred, “what are all of these little specks on baby’s forehead?” He pointed toward the infant’s brow. “One, two, three,” he counted.
Zoie was becoming more and more uncomfortable at the close proximity of the little stranger.
“Oh,” said Aggie, with affected carelessness as she leaned over Alfred’s shoulder and glanced at baby’s forehead. “That is just a little rash.”
“A rash!” exclaimed Alfred excitedly, “that’s dangerous, isn’t it? We’d better call up the doctor.” And he rose and started hurriedly toward the telephone, baby in arms.
“Don’t be silly,” called Zoie, filled with vague alarm at the thought of the family physician’s appearance and the explanations that this might entail.
Stepping between Alfred and the ‘phone, Aggie protested frantically. “You see, Alfred,” she said, “it is better to have the rash OUT, it won’t do any harm unless it turns IN.”
“He’s perfectly well,” declared Zoie, “if you’ll only put him in his crib and leave him alone.”
Alfred looked down at his charge. “Is that right, son?” he asked, and he tickled the little fellow playfully in the ribs. “I’ll tell you what,” he called over his shoulder to Zoie, “he’s a fine looking boy.” And then with a mysterious air, he nodded to Aggie to approach. “Whom does he look like?” he asked.
Again Zoie sat up in anxiety. Aggie glanced at her, uncertain what answer to make.
“I–I hadn’t thought,” she stammered weakly.
“Go on, go on,” exclaimed the proud young father, “you can’t tell me that you can look at that boy and not see the resemblance.”
“To whom?” asked Aggie, half fearfully.
“Why,” said Alfred, “he’s the image of Zoie.”
Zoie gazed at the puckered red face in Alfred’s arms. “What!” she shrieked in disgust, then fall back on her pillows and drew the lace coverlet over her face.
Mistaking Zoie’s feeling for one of embarrassment at being over-praised, Alfred bore the infant to her bedside. “See, dear,” he persisted, “see for yourself, look at his forehead.”
“I’d rather look at you,” pouted Zoie, peeping from beneath the coverlet, “if you would only put that thing down for a minute.”
“Thing?” exclaimed Alfred, as though doubting his own ears. But before he could remonstrate further, Zoie’s arms were about his neck and she was pleading jealously for his attention.
“Please, Alfred,” she begged, “I have scarcely had a look at you, yet.”
Alfred shook his head and turned to baby with an indulgent smile. It was pleasant to have two such delightful creatures bidding for his entire attention.
“Dear me,” he said to baby. “Dear me, tink of mudder wanting to look at a big u’gy t’ing like fadder, when she could look at a ‘itty witty t’ing like dis,” and he rose and crossed to the crib where he deposited the small creature with yet more gurgling and endearing.
Zoie’s dreams of rapture at Alfred’s home coming had not included such divided attention as he was now showing her and she was growing more and more desperate at the turn affairs had taken. She resolved to put a stop to his nonsense and to make him realise that she and no one else was the lode star of his existence. She beckoned to Aggie to get out of the room and to leave her a clear field and as soon as her friend had gone quietly into the next room, she called impatiently to Alfred who was still cooing rapturously over the young stranger. Finding Alfred deaf to her first entreaty, Zoie shut her lips hard, rearranged her pretty head-dress, drew one fascinating little curl down over her shoulder, reknotted the pink ribbon of her negligee, and then issued a final and imperious order for her husband to attend her.
“Yes, yes, dear,” answered Alfred, with a shade of impatience. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” And bidding a reluctant farewell to the small person in the crib, he crossed to her side.
Zoie caught Alfred’s hand and drew him down to her; he smiled complacently.
“Well,” he said in the patronising tone that Zoie always resented. “How is hubby’s little girl?”
“It’s about time,” pouted Zoie, “that you made a little fuss over me for a change.”
“My own!” murmured Alfred. He stooped to kiss the eager lips, but just as his young wife prepared to lend herself to his long delayed embrace, his mind was distracted by an uneasy thought. “Do you think that Baby is—-“
He was not permitted to finish the sentence.
Zoie drew him back to her with a sharp exclamation.
“Think of ME for a while,” she commanded.
“My darling,” expostulated Alfred with a shade of surprise at her vehemence. “How could I think of anyone else?” Again he stooped to embrace her and again his mind was directed otherwise. “I wonder if Baby is warm enough,” he said and attempted to rise.
“Wonder about ME for a while,” snapped Zoie, clinging to him determinedly.
Again Alfred looked at her in amazement. Was it possible there was anything besides Baby worth wondering about? Whether there was or not, Zoie was no longer to be resisted and with a last regretful look at the crib, he resigned himself to giving his entire attention to his spoiled young wife.
Gratified by her hard-won conquest, Zoie now settled herself in Alfred’s arms.
“You haven’t told me what you did all the time that you were away,” she reminded him.
“Oh, there was plenty to do,” answered Alfred.
“Did you think of me every minute?” she asked jealously.
“That would be telling,” laughed Alfred, as he pinched her small pink ear.
“I wish to be ‘told,’ ” declared Zoie; “I don’t suppose you realise it, but if I were to live a THOUSAND YEARS, I’d never be quite sure what you did during those FEW MONTHS.”
“It was nothing that you wouldn’t have been proud of,” answered Alfred, with an unconscious expansion of his chest.
“Do you love me as much as ever?” asked Zoie.
“Behave yourself,” answered Alfred, trying not to appear flattered by the discovery that his absence had undoubtedly caused her great uneasiness.
“Well, SAY it!” demanded Zoie.
“You know I do,” answered Alfred, with the diffidence of a school boy.
“Then kiss me,” concluded Zoie, with an air of finality that left Alfred no alternative.
As a matter of fact, Alfred was no longer seeking an alternative. He was again under the spell of his wife’s adorable charms and he kissed her not once, but many times.
“Foolish child,” he murmured, then he laid her tenderly against the large white pillows, remonstrating with her for being so spoiled, and cautioning her to be a good little girl while he went again to see about Baby.
Zoie clung to his hand and feigned approaching tears.
“You aren’t thinking of me at all?” she pouted. “And kisses are no good unless you put your whole mind on them. Give me a real kiss!” she pleaded.
Again Alfred stooped to humour the small importunate person who was so jealous of his every thought, but just as his lips touched her forehead his ear was arrested by a sound as yet new both to him and to Zoie. He lifted his head and listened.
“What was that?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” answered Zoie, wondering if the cat could have got into the room.
A redoubled effort on the part of the young stranger directed their attention in the right direction.
“My God!” exclaimed Alfred tragically, “it’s Baby. He’s crying.” And with that, he rushed to the crib and clasped the small mite close to his breast, leaving Zoie to pummel the pillows in an agony of vexation.
After vain cajoling of the angry youngster, Alfred bore him excitedly to Zoie’s bedside.
“You’d better take him, dear,” he said.
To the young husband’s astonishment, Zoie waved him from her in terror, and called loudly for Aggie. But no sooner had Aggie appeared on the scene, than a sharp whistle was heard from the pavement below.
“Pull down the shade!” cried Zoie frantically.
Aggie hastened toward the window.
Attributing Zoie’s uneasiness to a caprice of modesty, Alfred turned from the cradle to reassure her.
“No one can see in way up here,” he said.
To Zoie’s distress, the lowering of the shade was answered by a yet shriller whistle from the street below.
“Was it ‘up’ or ‘down’?” cried Zoie to Aggie in an agony of doubt, as she tried to recall her instructions to Jimmy.
“I don’t know,” answered Aggie. “I’ve forgotten.”
Another impatient whistle did not improve their memory. Alarmed by Zoie’s increasing excitement, and thinking she was troubled merely by a sick woman’s fancy that someone might see through the window, Alfred placed the babe quickly in its cradle and crossed to the young wife’s bed.
“It was up, dear,” he said. “You had Aggie put it down.”
“Then I want it up,” declared the seemingly perverse Zoie.
“But it was up,” argued Alfred.
A succession of emotional whistles set Zoie to pounding the pillows.
“Put it down!” she commanded.
“But Zoie—-” protested Alfred.
“Did I say ‘up’ or did I say ‘down’?” moaned the half-demented Zoie, while long whistles and short whistles, appealing whistles and impatient whistles followed each other in quick succession.
“You said down, dear,” persisted Alfred, now almost as distracted as his wife.
Zoie waved him from the room. “I wish you’d get out of here,” she cried; “you make me so nervous that I can’t think at all.”
“Of course, dear,” murmured Alfred, “if you wish it.” And with a hurt and perplexed expression on his face he backed quickly from the room.
CHAPTER XXI
When Zoie’s letter asking for the O’Flarety twin had reached that young lady’s astonished mother, Mrs. O’Flarety felt herself suddenly lifted to a position of importance.
“Think of the purty Mrs. Hardy a wantin’ my little Bridget,” she exclaimed, and she began to dwell upon the romantic possibilities of her offspring’s future under the care of such a “foine stylish lady and concluded by declaring it ‘a lucky day entoirely.’ “
Jimmy had his misgivings about it being Bridget’s “LUCKY day,” but it was not for him to delay matters by dwelling upon the eccentricities of Zoie’s character, and when Mrs. O’Flarety had deposited Bridget in Jimmy’s short arms and slipped a well filled nursing bottle into his overcoat pocket, he took his leave hastily, lest the excited woman add Bridget’s twin to her willing offering.
Once out of sight of the elated mother, Jimmy thrust the defenceless Bridget within the folds of his already snug ulster, buttoned the garment in such places as it would meet, and made for the taxi which, owing to the upset condition of the street, he had been obliged to abandon at the corner.
Whether the driver had obtained a more promising “fare” or been run in by the police, Jimmy never knew. At any rate it was in vain that he looked for his vehicle. So intense was the cold that it was impossible to wait for a chance taxi; furthermore, the meanness of the district made it extremely unlikely that one would appear, and glancing guiltily behind him to make sure that no one was taking cognisance of his strange exploit, Jimmy began picking his way along dark lanes and avoiding the lighted thoroughfare on which the “Sherwood” was situated, until he was within a block of his destination.
Panting with haste and excitement, he eventually gained courage to dash through a side street that brought him within a few doors of the “Sherwood.” Again glancing behind him, he turned the well lighted corner and arrived beneath Zoie’s window to find one shade up and one down. In his perplexity he emitted a faint whistle. Immediately he saw the other shade lowered. Uncertain as to what arrangement he had actually made with Zoie, he ventured a second whistle. The result was a hysterical running up and down of the shade which left him utterly bewildered as to what disposition he was supposed to make of the wobbly bit of humanity pressed against his shirt front.
Reaching over his artificially curved figure to grasp a bit of white that trailed below his coat, he looked up to see a passing policeman eyeing him suspiciously.
“Taking the air?” asked the policeman.
“Ye-yes,” mumbled Jimmy with affected nonchalence and he knocked the heels of his boots together in order to keep his teeth from chattering. “It’s a fi-fine ni-night for air,” he stuttered.
“Is it?” said the policeman, and to Jimmy’s horror, he saw the fellow’s eyes fix themselves on the bit of white.
“Go-good-night,” stammered Jimmy hurriedly, and trying to assume an easy stride in spite of the uncomfortable addition to his already rotund figure, he slipped into the hotel, where avoiding the lighted elevator, he laboured quickly, up the stairs.
At the very moment when Zoie was driving Alfred in consternation from the room, Jimmy entered it uninvited.
“Get out,” was the inhospitable greeting received simultaneously from Zoie and Aggie, and without waiting for further instructions he “got.”
Fortunately for all concerned, Alfred, who was at the same moment departing by way of the bedroom door, did not look behind him; but it was some minutes before Aggie who had followed Jimmy into the hall could persuade him to return.
After repeated and insistent signals both from Aggie and Zoie, Jimmy’s round red face appeared cautiously around the frame of the door. It bore unmistakable indications of apoplexy. But the eyes of the women were not upon Jimmy’s face, they too had caught sight of the bit of white that hung below his coat, and dragging him quickly into the room and closing the door, Aggie proceeded without inquiry or thanks to unbutton his coat and to take from beneath it the small object for which she and Zoie had been eagerly waiting.
“Thank Heaven!” sighed Zoie, as she saw Aggie bearing the latest acquisition to Alfred’s rapidly increasing family safely toward the crib.
Suddenly remembering something in his right hand coat pocket, Jimmy called to Aggie, who turned to him and waited expectantly. After characteristic fumbling, he produced a well filled nursing bottle.
“What’s that?” asked Zoie.
“For HER,” grunted Jimmy, and he nodded toward the bundle in Aggie’s arms.
“HER!” cried Zoie and Aggie in chorus. Zoie shut her lips hard and gazed at him with contempt.
“I might have known you’d get the wrong kind,” she said.
What Jimmy thought about the ingratitude of woman was not to be expressed in language. He controlled himself as well as he could and merely LOOKED the things that he would like to have said.
“Well, it can’t be helped now,” decided the philosophic Aggie; “here, Jimmy,” she said, “you hold ‘HER’ a minute and I’ll get you the other one.”
Placing the small creature in Jimmy’s protesting arms, Aggie turned toward the cradle to make the proposed exchange when she was startled by the unexpected return of Alfred.
Thanks to the ample folds of Jimmy’s ulster, he was able to effectually conceal his charge and he started quickly toward the hall, but in making the necessary detour around the couch he failed to reach the door before Alfred, who had chosen a more direct way.
“Hold on, Jimmy,” exclaimed Alfred good- naturedly, and he laid a detaining hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Where are you going?”
“I’ll be back,” stammered Jimmy weakly, edging his way toward the door, and contriving to keep his back toward Alfred.
“Wait a minute,” said Alfred jovially, as he let his hand slip onto Jimmy’s arm, “you haven’t told me the news yet.”
“I’ll tell you later,” mumbled Jimmy, still trying to escape. But Alfred’s eye had fallen upon a bit of white flannel dangling below the bottom of Jimmy’s ulster, it travelled upward to Jimmy’s unusually rotund figure.
“What have you got there?” he demanded to know, as he pointed toward the centre button of Jimmy’s overcoat.
“Here?” echoed Jimmy vapidly, glancing at the button in question, “why, that’s just a little—-” There was a faint wail from the depths of the ulster. Jimmy began to caper about with elephantine tread. “Oochie, coochie, oochie,” he called excitedly.
“What’s the matter with you?” asked Alfred. The wail became a shriek. “Good Heavens!” cried the anxious father, “it’s my boy.” And with that he pounced upon Jimmy, threw wide his ulster and snatched from his arms Jimmy’s latest contribution to Zoie’s scheme of things.
As Aggie had previously remarked, all young babies look very much alike, and to the inexperienced eye of this new and overwrought father, there was no difference between the infant that he now pressed to his breast, and the one that, unsuspected by him, lay peacefully dozing in the crib, not ten feet from him. He gazed at the face of the newcomer with the same ecstasy that he had felt in the possession of her predecessor. But Zoie and Aggie were looking at each other with something quite different from ecstasy.
“My boy,” exclaimed Alfred, with deep emotion, as he clasped the tiny creature to his breast. Then he turned to Jimmy. “What were you doing with my baby?” he demanded hotly.
“I–I was just taking him out for a little walk!” stammered Jimmy.
“You just try,” threatened Alfred, and he towered over the intimidated Jimmy. “Are you crazy?”
Jimmy was of the opinion that he must be crazy or he would never have found himself in such a predicament as this, but the anxious faces of Zoie and Aggie, denied him the luxury of declaring himself so. He sank mutely on the end of the couch and proceeded to sulk in silence.
As for Aggie and Zoie, they continued to gaze open-mouthed at Alfred, who was waltzing about the room transported into a new heaven of delight at having snatched his heir from the danger of another night ramble with Jimmy.
“Did a horrid old Jimmy spoil his ‘itty nap’?” he gurgled to Baby. Then with a sudden exclamation of alarm, he turned toward the anxious women. “Aggie!” he cried, as he stared intently into Baby’s face. “Look–his rash! It’s turned IN!”
Aggie pretended to glance over Alfred’s shoulder.
“Why so it has,” she agreed nervously.
“What shall we do?” cried the distraught Alfred.
“It’s all right now,” counselled Aggie, “so long as it didn’t turn in too suddenly.”
“We’d better keep him warm, hadn’t we?” suggested Alfred, remembering Aggie’s previous instructions on a similar occasion. “I’ll put him in his crib,” he decided, and thereupon he made a quick move toward the bassinette.
Staggering back from the cradle with the unsteadiness of a drunken man Alfred called upon the Diety. “What is THAT?” he demanded as he pointed toward the unexpected object before him.
Neither Zoie, Aggie, nor Jimmy could command words to assist Alfred’s rapidly waning powers of comprehension, and it was not until he had swept each face for the third time with a look of inquiry that Zoie found breath to stammer nervously, “Why–why–why, that’s the OTHER one.”
“The other one?” echoed Alfred in a dazed manner; then he turned to Aggie for further explanation.
“Yes,” affirmed Aggie, with an emphatic nod, “the other one.”
An undescribable joy was dawning on Alfred’s face.
“You don’t mean—-” He stared from the infant in his arms to the one in the cradle, then back again at Aggie and Zoie. The women solemnly nodded their heads. Even Jimmy unblushingly acquiesced. Alfred turned toward Zoie for the final confirmation of his hopes.
“Yes, dear,” assented Zoie sweetly, “that’s Alfred.”
What Jimmy and the women saw next appeared to be the dance of a whirling dervish; as a matter of fact, it was merely a man, mad with delight, clasping two infants in long clothes and circling the room with them.
When Alfred could again enunciate distinctly, he rushed to Zoie’s side with the babes in his arms.
“My darling,” he exclaimed, “why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was ashamed,” whispered Zoie, hiding her head to shut out the sight of the red faces pressed close to hers.
“My angel!” cried Alfred, struggling to control his complicated emotions; then gazing at the precious pair in his arms, he cast his eyes devoutly toward heaven, “Was ever a man so blessed?”
Zoie peeped from the covers with affected shyness.
“You love me just as much?” she queried.
“I love you TWICE as much,” declared Alfred, and with that he sank exhausted on the foot of the bed, vainly trying to teeter one son on each knee.
CHAPTER XXII
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 jovialiy. “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