watch front
window see who goes out."

Lichtenstein nodded, washed the tag ends of lather from his face, and
proceeded in dead silence to dress himself as a lady of somewhat
doubtful age, looks, and position. But Bubbles would have made a very
pretty girl, if Mrs. Popple had not insisted on powdering his face till
it was as white as that of a clown.

"Won't do to be conspicuous," she explained.

Lichtenstein packed the things which he and Bubbles had taken off into a
suit-case marked "A.P." (Amelia Popple), and led the way downstairs. A
little later a taxicab drew up at the curb, and the two disguised
secret-service agents sauntered down the high steps of Mrs. Popple's
brownstone house, looking neither to the right nor to the left, and
got in.

"Where to?" said the driver, with rather a bold leer. The average lady
who descended or ascended Mrs. Popple's steps; was not considered
respectable even by taxi-drivers.

It had been agreed that Bubbles, having of the two the more feminine
adaptabilities of voice, should do the talking.

"Grand Central," he said.

XXXIX

Barbara was reading "Smoke" and did not wish to be interrupted by a
"young person" (in the footman's words) who refused to give her name.
Nevertheless she was weakly good-natured in such matters, and closing
her book said: "Very well--in here, John."

A moment later the young person was shown into the living-room. Barbara
was still more annoyed, for young faces covered with powder were odious
to her. But suddenly the young person's mouth curled into a captivating
grin, and the young person trotted forward in a very un-young-personish
way, and cried triumphantly:

"It's me--Bubbles."

And Bubbles followed Barbara's gratifying exclamations of surprise and
inquiry with a syncopated outburst of explanation, finishing with: "And
Mr. Lichtenstein said I was to throw us on your mercy, and ask if he
could stay to finish his writing, and he's stepped into some bushes off
the driveway to put on his own clothes. And please, Miss Barbara, he's
just the finest and bravest ever, and don't care what happens to him,
only he says they're bound to get him now everything's found out, and
he's just got to finish writing down what he carries in his head."

"Of course," said Barbara, "we'll have to tell my father; but all will
be well. Mr. Lichtenstein shall stay. Bring him to me when he's finished
changing, and then you'd best change, and if you don't want t