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.
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.
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 didIdo 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.
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.
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.
“Ido,” 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.