"Well, never mind that. There's no sense in worrying oneself about the future. Tell me, dad, where did you get all the 'dinner-is-served, madam' stuff? How did you ever learn to be a butler?" "Bayliss taught me back in London. And, of course, I've played butlers when I was on the stage." Jimmy did not speak for a moment. "Did you ever play a kidnapper, dad?" he asked at length. "Sure. I was Chicago Ed. in a crook play called 'This Way Out.' Why, surely you saw me in that? I got some good notices." Jimmy nodded. "Of course. I knew I'd seen you play that sort of part some time. You came on during the dark scene and--" "--switched on the lights and--" "--covered the bunch with your gun while they were still blinking! You were great in that part, dad." "It was a good part," said Mr. Crocker modestly. "It had fat. I'd like to have a chance to play a kidnapper again. There's a lot of pep to kidnappers." "You _shall_ play one again," said Jimmy. "I am putting on a little sketch with a kidnapper as the star part." "Eh? A sketch? You, Jim? Where?" "Here. In this house. It is entitled 'Kidnapping Ogden' and opens to-night." Mr. Crocker looked at his only son in concern. Jimmy appeared to him to be rambling. "Amateur theatricals?" he hazarded. "In the sense that there is no pay for performing, yes. Dad, you know that kid Ogden upstairs? Well, it's quite simple. I want you to kidnap him for me." Mr. Crocker sat down heavily. He shook his head. "I don't follow all this." "Of course not. I haven't begun to explain. Dad, in your rambles through this joint you've noticed a girl with glorious red-gold hair, I imagine?" "Ann Chester?" "Ann Chester. I'm going to marry her." "Jimmy!" "But she doesn't know it yet. Now, follow me carefully, dad. Five years ago Ann Chester wrote a book of poems. It's on that desk there. You were using it a moment back as second-base or something. Now, I was working at that time on the _Chronicle_. I wrote a skit on those poems for the Sunday paper. Do you begin to follow the plot?" "She's got it in for you? She's sore?" "Exactly. Get that firmly fixed in your mind, because it's the source from which all the rest of the story springs." Mr. Crocker interrupted. "But I don't understand. You say she's sore at you. Well, how is it that you came in together looking as if you were good friends when I let you in this morning?" "I was waiting for you to ask that. The explanation is that she doesn't know that I am Jimmy Crocker." "But you came here saying that you were Jimmy Crocker." "Quite right. And that is where the plot thickens. I made Ann's acquaintance first in London and then on the boat. I had found out that Jimmy Crocker was the man she hated most in the world, so I took another name. I called myself Bayliss." "Bayliss!"