“Is Baby May all right?” Nan asked anxiously.
“Oh, bless your heart, yes!” replied Mr. Denton. “I guess the old woman took good care of the baby.”
They all went out to the farmhouse in Mr. Bobbsey’s automobile, as the constable said his little car had a flat tire. As they approached the place Nan and Bert saw, standing out in the front yard, a figure they well knew.
It was that of the strange old woman they had first seen passing their house and later sneaking around Pine Hill. As soon as the woman, who was without her shawl now and who did not have an umbrella, saw them, she made a dash toward the house.
But Jim Denton was too quick for her. Leaping from the automobile while it was still moving, he caught her by the arm and cried:
“No, you don’t! We have you now! You can’t get away with the baby again!”
The old woman did not struggle. Indeed, now that she was caught, she seemed very calm and not at all queer.
“Very well,” she said. “I am not going to run away. You will find everything all right. I have a very good claim to this baby.”
“That you’ll have to explain to the police,” said Mr. Bobbsey, in a stern voice. “Where is Baby May?”
“Her name isn’t May. It’s Jenny,” returned the old woman, with a faint smile. “Jenny Watson. If you’ll come in I’ll explain everything.”