“Shoot him, for all I care,” groaned Alfred, and he rocked to and fro.
“How ungrateful!” exclaimed Aggie, then she signalled to the officer to go.
“No more of your funny business,” said the officer with a parting nod at Jimmy and a vindictive light in his eyes when he remembered the bruises that Jimmy had left on his shins.
“Oh, Jimmy!” said Aggie sympathetically, and she pressed her hot face against his round apoplectic cheek. “You poor dear! And after all you have done for us!”
“Yes,” sneered Zoie, having regained sufficient strength to stagger to her feet, “he's done a lot, hasn't he?” And then forgetting that her original adventure with Jimmy which had brought about such disastrous results was still unknown to Aggie and Alfred, she concluded bitterly, “All this would never have happened, if it hadn't been for Jimmy and his horrid old luncheon.”
Jimmy was startled. This was too much, and just as he had seemed to be well out of complications for the remainder of his no doubt short life. He turned to bolt for the door but Aggie's eyes were upon him.
“Luncheon?” exclaimed Aggie and she regarded him with a puzzled frown.
Zoie's hand was already over her lips, but too late.
Recovering from his somewhat bewildering sense of loss, Alfred, too, was now beginning to sit up and take notice.
“What luncheon?” he demanded.