A redoubled effort on the part of the young stranger directed their attention in the right direction.

"My G.o.d!" 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 rea.s.sure 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, b.u.t.toned 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 pa.s.sing 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 a.s.sume 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 unb.u.t.ton 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 ingrat.i.tude 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.