"I don't quite follow the reasoning. Surely it's a peculiar kind of test. Why should she think a man cannot be honest and true unless her butler knows him? There must be hundreds of worthy citizens whom he does not know."
"Skinner arrived from England a few days ago. Until then he was employed by Mrs. Crocker. Now do you understand?"
Jimmy stopped. She had spoken slowly and distinctly, and there could be no possibility that he had misunderstood her, yet he scarcely believed that he had heard her aright. How could a man named Skinner have been his step-mother's butler? Bayliss had been with the family ever since they had arrived in London.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course, of course I'm sure. Aunt Nesta told me herself. There can't possibly be a mistake, because it was Skinner who let her in when she called on Mrs. Crocker. Uncle Peter told me about it. He had a talk with the man in the hall and found that he was a baseball enthusiast—"
A wild, impossible idea flashed upon Jimmy. It was so absurd that he felt ashamed of entertaining it even for a moment. But strange things were happening these times, and it might be . . .
"What sort of looking man is Skinner?"
"Oh, stout, clean-shaven. I like him. He's much more human than I thought butlers ever were. Why?"
"Oh, nothing."
"Of course, you can't go back to the house. You see that? He would say that you aren't Jimmy Crocker and then you would be arrested."