“Never mind—leave 'em. Tell her she's got to leave 'em. And tell Cyril, of course, what to expect. And, look a-here, you two behave, now. None of your nonsense! Now mind. I'm not going to have this child tormented.”
“I won't bat an eyelid—on my word, I won't,” chuckled Bertram. “But, oh, I say,—Will!”
“Yes.”
“What's Spunk?”
“Eh?—oh—Great Scott! I forgot Spunk. I don't know. She's got a basket. He's in that, I suppose. Anyhow, he can't be any more of a bombshell than his mistress was. Now be quick, and none of your fooling, Bertram. Tell them all—Pete and Dong Ling. Don't forget. I wouldn't have Billy find out for the world! Fix it up with Kate. You'll have to fix it up with her; that's all!” And there came the sharp click of the receiver against the hook.
CHAPTER VII
INTRODUCING SPUNK
In the soft April twilight Cyril was playing a dreamy waltz when Bertram knocked, and pushed open the door.
“Say, old chap, you'll have to quit your mooning this time and sit up and take notice.”