e you forget that little
exasperation--do you know I just can't get over the idea that I've seen
you somewhere and _recently_--Hello, Jack! Colonel Kirkland, my eldest
boy, Jack--named after his mother, Johanna. Look here, Jack, has
everybody on the blithering police force gone crazy about _pajamas_?
Most infernal outrage--pardon me, Colonel Kirkland--three policemen
wanted to arrest him on description--dragnet order, they said--for
stealing a pair of black silk pajamas. Ever hear the like of that?"

Billings' voice murmured something, and then I was dully conscious of my
name being passed and of the fact that I was limply shaking a hand. But
I don't remember uttering a word--couldn't, by Jove, for my jolly tongue
was paralyzed. Didn't know what to do; didn't know what to say, you
know, for there before my eyes, recognizable and unmistakable, despite
frock coat and white choker tie, was the figure of "Foxy Grandpa."

The beefy face, white mutton chop whiskers and bald head were as
indelibly imprinted on my memory as the sunburn line that fenced his
fiery face.

And _this_ was the frump's father, and it was for him she was scheming
to make a home!

CHAPTER XXXIV

THE CUB

I didn't go in to luncheon.

Instead, I lay down up in my room, wondering what Jenkins would think
when he saw Foxy Grandpa a guest with me under this roof, and wondering
also what I ought to do, or if I should do anything. I came to the
conclusion finally that I wouldn't say anything for the present, for I
had about all the complications I could carry.

Presently I went down to the living-room, where they were all assembled,
and my heart leaped as I thought I detected a brightening in Frances'
face as I entered.

Billings was waving the frump away with his fat hand. "Take it away," he
said. "I hate bugs."

"But, Jacky," said the frump pleadingly, "I think it's a _phusiotus
gloriosa_."

"I don't care if it's a giraffe," said Billings rudely.

But the professor was already across the room to the rescue.

"Ha! not a _gloriosa_," he said animatedly, as he snooped over the
little greenish thing in the frump's hand. "Observe the shortened
_prothorax_ and _mesothorax_ and--"

"And _metathorax_," chimed in the frump, her head close to his.
"Hence--"

"It is a _phanaeus carnifex_," said the professor positively.

By Jove, it looked to me like what we used to call a dung beetle!

And then the two cranks went out in the sun with but