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The man's face was already so red it could not get any redder--but it tried to do so.
"Why, er--I--it--er--if you'll just come into the waiting-room a minute, my dear," he stuttered miserably, "I--I'll explain--about that. I shall have to leave you--for a minute," he plunged on frenziedly, as he led the way to a seat; "A--matter of business that I must attend to. I'll be--right back. Wait here, please!" And he almost pushed the girl into a seat and hurried away.
At a safe distance William Henshaw turned and looked back. His knees were shaking, and his fingers had grown cold at their tips. He could see her plainly, as she bent over the basket in her lap. He could see even the pretty curve of her cheek, and of her slender throat when she lifted her head.
And that was Billy--a GIRL!
People near him at that moment saw a flushed-faced, nervous-appearing man throw up his hands with a despairing gesture, roll his eyes heavenward, and then plunge into the nearest telephone booth.
In due time William Henshaw had his brother Bertram at the other end of the wire.
"Bertram!" he called shakily.
"Hullo, Will; that you? What's the matter? You're late! Didn't he come?"
"Come!" groaned William. "Good Lord! Bertram--Billy's a GIRL!"
"A wh-what?"
"A girl."
"A GIRL!"
"Yes, yes! Don't stand there repeating what I say in that idiotic fas.h.i.+on, Bertram. Do something--do something!"
"'Do something'!" gasped Bertram. "Great Scott, Will! If you want me to do something, don't knock me silly with a blow like that. Now what did you say?"
"I said that Billy is--a--girl. Can't you get that?" demanded William, despairingly.
"Well, by Jove!" breathed Bertram.
"Come, come, think! What shall we do?"
"Why, bring her home, of course."
"Home--home!" chattered William. "Do you think we five men can bring up a distractingly pretty eighteen-year-old girl with curly cheeks and pink hair?"
"With wha-at?"
"No, no. I mean curly hair and pink cheeks. Bertram, do be sensible,"
begged the man. "This is serious!"
"Serious! I should say it was! Only fancy what Cy will say! A girl! Holy smoke! Tote her along--I want to see her!"
"But I say we can't keep her there with us, Bertram. Don't you see we can't?"
"Then take her to Kate's, or to--to one of those Young Women's Christian Union things."
"No, no, I can't do that. That's impossible. Don't you understand? She's expecting to go home with me--HOME! I'm her Uncle William."
"Lucky Uncle William!"
"Be still, Bertram!"
"Well, doesn't she know your--mistake?--that you thought she was a boy?"
"Heaven forbid!--I hope not," cried the man, fervently. "I 'most let it out once, but I think she didn't notice it. You see, we--we were both surprised."
"Well, I should say!"
"And, Bertram, I can't turn her out--I can't, I tell you. Only fancy my going to her now and saying: 'If you please, Billy, you can't live at my house, after all. I thought you were a boy, you know!' Great Scott!
Bert, if she'd once turned those big brown eyes of hers on you as she has on me, you'd see!"
"I'd be delighted, I'm sure," sung a merry voice across the wires.
"Sounds real interesting!"
"Bertram, can't you be serious and help me out?"
"But what CAN we do?"
"I don't know. We'll have to think; but for now, get Kate. Telephone her. Tell her to come right straight over, and that she's got to stay all night."
"All night!"
"Of course! Billy's got to have a chaperon; hasn't she? Now hurry. We shall be up right away."
"Kate's got company."
"Never mind--leave 'em. Tell her she's got to leave 'em. And tell Cyril, of course, what to expect. And, look a-here, you two behave, now. None of your nonsense! Now mind. I'm not going to have this child tormented."
"I won't bat an eyelid--on my word, I won't," chuckled Bertram. "But, oh, I say,--Will!"
"Yes."
"What's s.p.u.n.k?"
"Eh?--oh--Great Scott! I forgot s.p.u.n.k. I don't know. She's got a basket.
He's in that, I suppose. Anyhow, he can't be any more of a bombsh.e.l.l than his mistress was. Now be quick, and none of your fooling, Bertram.
Tell them all--Pete and Dong Ling. Don't forget. I wouldn't have Billy find out for the world! Fix it up with Kate. You'll have to fix it up with her; that's all!" And there came the sharp click of the receiver against the hook.
CHAPTER VII
INTRODUCING s.p.u.n.k
In the soft April twilight Cyril was playing a dreamy waltz when Bertram knocked, and pushed open the door.