So, with this new idea, and the cheerin' views Barnes had pumped into me, I has plenty to chew over durin' the next hour or so that I'm speedin' towards home. I expect that accounts some for the long face I must have been wearin' when I finally dashes through the front gate of the Lilacs and am let into the house by Leon Battou, the little old Frenchman who cooks and buttles for us. "Ah, _mon Dieu!_" says Leon, throwin' up his hands and starin' at me bug-eyed. "Monsieur!" "Go on," says I. "Tell me the worst. What is it?" "But no, M'sieur," says he. "It is only that M'sieur appears in so strange attire." "Oh! These?" says I. "Never mind my costume, Leon. What about Vee?" "Ah!" says he, his eyes beamin' once more and his hands washin' each other. "Madame is excellent. She herself will tell you. Come!" Upstairs I went, two steps at a time. "S-s-sh!" says the nurse, meetin' me at the door. But I brushes past her, and the next minute I'm over by the bed and Vee is smilin' up at me. It's only the ghost of a smile, but it means a lot to me. She slips one of her hands into mine. "Torchy," she whispers, "did you drop down out of--of the air?" "That was about it," says I. "I got here, though. Are you all right, girlie?" She nods and gives me another of them sketchy, happy smiles. "And how about the--the----" I starts to ask. She glances towards the corner where the nurse is bendin' over a pink and white basket. "He's splendid," she whispers. "He?" says I. "Then--then it's a boy?" She gives my hand a little squeeze. And ten minutes later, when I'm shooed out, I'm feelin' so chesty and happy that I'm tingly all over. Down in the livin'-room Leon is waitin' for me, wearin' a broad grin. He greets me with his hand out. And then, somehow, because he's so different, I expect, I remembers Barnes. I was wonderin' if Leon was just puttin' on. "Well," says I, "how about it?" "Ah, Monsieur!" says he, givin' me the hearty grip. "I make to you my best congratulations." "Then you don't feel," says I, "that bein' a parent is kind of a sad and solemn business?" "Sad!" says he. "_Non, non!_ It is the grand joy of life. It is when you have the best right to be proud and glad, for to you has come _la bonne chance_. Yes, _la bonne chance!_" And say, there's no mistakin' that Leon means every word of it, French and all. "Thanks, Leon," says I. "You ought to know. You've been through it yourself. I'll bet you wouldn't even feel bad at being a grandfather. No? Well, I guess I'll follow through on that line. Maybe I don't deserve so much luck, but I'm takin' it just as though I did. And say, Leon, let's us go out in the back yard and give three cheers for the son and heir of the house of Torchy." CHAPTER XVI TORCHY GETS THE THUMB GRIP