Page:The Keeper of the Bees.pdf/376

 then from the depths of preoccupation, stumbled to the telephone and took down the receiver and gave a number. Jamie stood breathlessly, fearfully, and listened to a one-sided conversation.

“I want Mom.

“Hello, Mom, is that you?

“Say, Mom, we got the dirtiest gyp out here this morning! We got a little splinter new boy baby just like Jimmy when he first came from the hospital, just as nice and sweet and everything. And, Mom, this is the dirty part of it. Getting him here was too much for his mother. She went dead on us and we ain’t got her, and we are got the baby, and his name’s Jamie after his dad—just like our baby! And, Mom, we thought Margaret Cameron would take him and take care of him for us, and that’s another dirty thing! She’s gone off on a visit and she won’t be home for three or four days, and we ain’t got a thing to feed him!”

The little Scout clapped a hand over the mouthpiece, turned to Jamie, and in a strained whisper inquired: “Have we got any clothes?”

“I think so,” said Jamie.

The small person turned back.

“We got oodles of clothes. Everything we need. What we need is somebody to do the oiling and the feeding and the changing——”

Then the little Scout sprang straight in the air and gave a shout.

“Bully for you, Mom! I knew you’d come across!