“A baby?” gasped the lady, incredulously.
“But we didn’t know they were expecting one,” said her husband, scowling. “Mighty strange Oliver never even mentioned—”
“Are you telling the truth?” demanded Mrs. Gooch. “Or are you just trying to be funny?”
Mr. Sikes removed the cigar from his jaws. “It’s nothing to me, ma’am, whether you believe it or not,” said he.
Baxter’s brother-in-law allowed his gaze to roam around the room. “Maybe we’re in the wrong house, Ida,” he said. “We haven’t been in Rumley since Oliver set up housekeeping. Like as not, that feller down at the drug store gave us the wrong—”
“This is Oliver Baxter’s house,” said Sikes shortly. “He moved in here the day after the wedding, and he ain’t moved out of it since, far as I know.”
“And who are you?” inquired Mr. Gooch.
“Me? My name is Sikes, Joseph Sikes. I’m Ollie’s best friend, if you want to know. I stood up with him when he was married, and I’ve been standin’ up for him ever since. If you’ve got anything nasty to say about Oliver Baxter, I guess you’d better not say it in my hearin’, Mr. Gooch.”
“I have no intention of saying anything nasty about my wife’s brother,” retorted Mr. Gooch.
“I know all about you,” said Mr. Sikes, replacing his cigar and scowling darkly. “I’ve heard Ollie speak of you a hundred times. He ain’t got any use for you.”