“I'll be back,” stammered Jimmy weakly, edging his way toward the door, and contriving to keep his back toward Alfred.
“Wait a minute,” said Alfred jovially, as he let his hand slip onto Jimmy's arm, “you haven't told me the news yet.”
“I'll tell you later,” mumbled Jimmy, still trying to escape. But Alfred's eye had fallen upon a bit of white flannel dangling below the bottom of Jimmy's ulster, it travelled upward to Jimmy's unusually rotund figure.
“What have you got there?” he demanded to know, as he pointed toward the centre button of Jimmy's overcoat.
“Here?” echoed Jimmy vapidly, glancing at the button in question, “why, that's just a little——” There was a faint wail from the depths of the ulster. Jimmy began to caper about with elephantine tread. “Oochie, coochie, oochie,” he called excitedly.
“What's the matter with you?” asked Alfred. The wail became a shriek. “Good Heavens!” cried the anxious father, “it's my boy.” And with that he pounced upon Jimmy, threw wide his ulster and snatched from his arms Jimmy's latest contribution to Zoie's scheme of things.
As Aggie had previously remarked, all young babies look very much alike, and to the inexperienced eye of this new and overwrought father, there was no difference between the infant that he now pressed to his breast, and the one that, unsuspected by him, lay peacefully dozing in the crib, not ten feet from him. He gazed at the face of the newcomer with the same ecstasy that he had felt in the possession of her predecessor. But Zoie and Aggie were looking at each other with something quite different from ecstasy.
“My boy,” exclaimed Alfred, with deep emotion, as he clasped the tiny creature to his breast. Then he turned to Jimmy. “What were you doing with my baby?” he demanded hotly.
“I—I was just taking him out for a little walk!” stammered Jimmy.
“You just try,” threatened Alfred, and he towered over the intimidated Jimmy. “Are you crazy?”