immy hotly.

"Oh, but you AREN'T," interrupted Zoie; then she turned to the
Superintendent. "What makes some of them so much larger than others?"
she asked, glancing at the babies he had CALLED "white."

"Well, you see they're of different ages," explained the Superintendent
indulgently.

"We told Mr. Jinks they must all be of the same age," said Zoie with a
reproachful look at Jimmy.

"What age is that?" asked the Superintendent.

"I should say a week old," said Aggie.

"Then this is the one for you," decided the Superintendent, designating
his first choice.

"I think we'd better take the Superintendent's advice," said Aggie
complacently.

Zoie looked around the room with a dissatisfied air. Was it possible
that all babies were as homely as these?

"You know, Zoie," explained Aggie, divining her thought, "they get
better looking as they grow older."

"They couldn't look worse!" was Zoie's disgusted comment.

"Fetch it home, Jimmy," said Aggie.

"What!" exclaimed Jimmy, who had considered his mission completed.

"You don't expect US to carry it, do you?" asked Aggie in a hurt voice.

The Superintendent settled the difficulty temporarily by informing them
that the baby could not possibly leave the home until the mother had
signed the necessary papers for its release.

"I thought all those details had been attended to," said Aggie, and
again the two women surveyed Jimmy with grieved disappointment.

"I'll get the mother's signature the first thing in the morning,"
volunteered the Superintendent.

"Very well," said Zoie, "and in the meantime, I'll send some new clothes
for it," and with a lofty farewell to the Superintendent, she and Aggie
followed Jimmy down stairs to the taxi.

"Now," said Zoie, when they were properly seated, "let's stop at a
telegraph office and let Jimmy send a wire to Alfred."

"Wait until we get the baby," cautioned Aggie.

"We'll have it the first thing in the morning," argued Zoie.

"Jimmy can send him a night-letter," compromised Aggie, "that way Alfred
won't get the news until morning."

A few minutes later, the taxi stopped in front of Jimmy's office and
with a sigh of thanksgiving he hurried upstairs to his unanswered mail.

CHAPTER XIII

When Alfred Hardy found himself on the train bound for Detroit, he tried
to assure himself that he had done the right thing in breaking away
from an association that had kept him for months in a constant state of
ferment. Hi