away from Alfred that long in all my life."

Aggie was visibly annoyed. "Well, of course," she said coldly, as she
rose to go, "if you can get Alfred back WITHOUT that----"

"But I can't!" cried Zoie, and she clung to her friend as to her last
remaining hope.

"Then," answered Aggie, somewhat mollified by Zoie's complete
submission. "THIS is the only way. The President of the Children's Home
is a great friend of Jimmy's," she said proudly.

It was at this point that Zoie made her first practical suggestion.
"Then we'll LET JIMMY GET IT," she declared.

"Of course," agreed Aggie enthusiastically, as though they would be
according the poor soul a rare privilege. "Jimmy gives a hundred
dollars to the Home every Christmas,"--additional proof why he should be
selected for this very important office.

"Good Heavens!" exclaimed Zoie with shocked surprise. "If Alfred were to
give a hundred dollars to a Baby's Home, I should suspect him."

"Don't be silly!" snapped Aggie curtly. In spite of her firm faith in
Jimmy's innocence, she was undoubtedly annoyed by Zoie's unpleasant
suggestion.

There was an instant's pause, then putting disagreeable thoughts from
her mind, Aggie turned to Zoie with renewed enthusiasm.

"We must get down to business," she said, "we'll begin on the baby's
outfit at once."

"Its what?" queried Zoie.

"Its clothes," explained Aggie.

"Oh, what fun!" exclaimed Zoie, and she clapped her hands merrily like a
very small child. A moment later she stopped with sudden misgiving.

"But, Aggie," she said fearfully, "suppose Alfred shouldn't come back
after I've got the baby? I'd be a widow with a child."

"Oh, he's sure to come back!" answered Aggie, with a confident air.
"He'll take the first train, home."

"I believe he will," assented Zoie joyfully. All her clouds were again
dispelled. "Aggie," she cried impulsively, "you are a darling. You have
just saved my life." And she clasped her arms so tightly around Aggie's
neck that her friend was in danger of being suffocated.

Releasing herself Aggie continued with a ruffled collar and raised
vanity: "You can write him an insinuating letter now and then, just to
lead up to the good news gradually."

Zoie tipped her small head to one side and studied her friend
thoughtfully. "Do you know, Aggie," she said, with frank admiration, "I
believe you are a better liar than I am."

"I'm NOT a liar," objected Aggie vehemently, "at least, not often," she