“You, you!” cried the frenzied woman and, to O'Flarety's astonishment, she laid two strong hands upon his arm and drew him round until he faced her. “Where are you going with my baby?” she asked, then peering into the face of the infant nearest to her, she uttered a disappointed moan. “'Tis not my baby!” she cried. She scanned the face of the second infant--again she moaned. Having begun to identify this hysterical creature as the possible mother of the third infant, O'Flarety jerked his head in the direction of the cradle. “I guess you'll find what you're lookin' for in there,” he said. Then bidding Maggie to “git along out o' this” and shrugging his shoulders to convey his contempt for the fugitive beneath the coverlet, he swept quickly from the room. Clasping her long-sought darling to her heart and weeping with delight, the Italian mother was about to follow O'Flarety through the door when Zoie staggered into the room, weak and exhausted. “You, you!” called the indignant Zoie to the departing mother. “How dare you lock my husband in the bathroom?” She pointed to the key, which the woman still unconsciously clasped in her hand. “Give me that key,” she demanded, “give it to me this instant.” “Take your horrid old key,” said the mother, and she threw it on the floor. “If you ever try to get my baby again, I'll lock your husband in JAIL,” and murmuring excited maledictions in her native tongue, she took her welcome departure. Zoie stooped for the key, one hand to her giddy head, but Aggie, who had just returned to the room, reached the key first and volunteered to go to the aid of the captive Alfred, who was pounding desperately on the bathroom door and demanding his instant release. “I'll let him out,” said Aggie. “You get into bed,” and she slipped quickly from the room. Utterly exhausted and half blind with fatigue Zoie lifted the coverlet and slipped beneath it. Her first sensation was of touching something rough and scratchy, then came the awful conviction that the thing against which she lay was alive.