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
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.