When Zoie's letter asking for the O'Flarety twin had reached that young

lady's astonished mother, Mrs. O'Flarety felt herself suddenly lifted to

a position of importance.

"Think of the purty Mrs. Hardy a wantin' my little Bridget," she

exclaimed, and she began to dwell upon the romantic possibilities of

her offspring's future under the care of such a "foine stylish lady and

concluded by declaring it 'a lucky day entoirely.'"

Jimmy had his misgivings about it being Bridget's "LUCKY day," but it

was not for him to delay matters by dwelling upon the eccentricities

of Zoie's character, and when Mrs. O'Flarety had deposited Bridget in

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Jimmy's short arms and slipped a well filled nursing bottle into his

overcoat pocket, he took his leave hastily, lest the excited woman add

Bridget's twin to her willing offering.

Once out of sight of the elated mother, Jimmy thrust the defenceless

Bridget within the folds of his already snug ulster, buttoned the

garment in such places as it would meet, and made for the taxi which,

owing to the upset condition of the street, he had been obliged to

abandon at the corner.

Whether the driver had obtained a more promising "fare" or been run

in by the police, Jimmy never knew. At any rate it was in vain that he

looked for his vehicle. So intense was the cold that it was impossible

to wait for a chance taxi; furthermore, the meanness of the district

made it extremely unlikely that one would appear, and glancing guiltily

behind him to make sure that no one was taking cognisance of his strange

exploit, Jimmy began picking his way along dark lanes and avoiding the

lighted thoroughfare on which the "Sherwood" was situated, until he was

within a block of his destination.

Panting with haste and excitement, he eventually gained courage to

dash through a side street that brought him within a few doors of the

"Sherwood." Again glancing behind him, he turned the well lighted corner

and arrived beneath Zoie's window to find one shade up and one down. In

his perplexity he emitted a faint whistle. Immediately he saw the other

shade lowered. Uncertain as to what arrangement he had actually made

with Zoie, he ventured a second whistle. The result was a hysterical

running up and down of the shade which left him utterly bewildered as to

what disposition he was supposed to make of the wobbly bit of humanity

pressed against his shirt front.

Reaching over his artificially curved figure to grasp a bit of white

that trailed below his coat, he looked up to see a passing policeman

eyeing him suspiciously.




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