thout removing
her hat and jacket, she brought him a glass of buttermilk and six plain
crackers. Sam watched her until she had ascended the stairs to the
first floor; then he stole on tiptoe to the sink in the butler's pantry
and emptied the buttermilk down the wastepipe. A moment later he opened
the door of a bookcase that stood near the mantelpiece and deposited
five of the crackers behind six full-morocco volumes entitled "Prayers
for Festivals and Holy Days." He was busily engaged in eating the
remaining cracker when Babette returned; and all that afternoon he
seemed so contented and even jovial that Babette determined to permit
him his solitary walk on the following day.

Thus Sam not only ate the chicken fricassee but three days afterward,
when he visited Mrs. Schrimm upon the representation to Babette that he
would sit all the morning in Mt. Morris Park, he suggested to Henrietta
that he show some return for her hospitality by taking her to luncheon
at a fashionable hotel downtown.

"My restaurant days is over," Mrs. Schrimm declared.

"To oblige me," Sam pleaded. "I ain't been downtown in--excuse me--such
a helluva long time I don't know what it's like at all."

"If you are so anxious to get downtown, Sam," Mrs. Schrimm rejoined,
"why don't you go down and get lunch with Henry? He'd be glad to have
you."

"What, alone?" Sam cried. "Why, if Babette would hear of it----"

"Who's going to tell her?" Mrs. Schrimm asked, and Sam seized his hat
with trembling fingers.

"By jimminy, I would do it!" he said, and then he paused irresolutely.
"But how could I get home in time if I did?"

A moment later he snapped his fingers.

"I got an idee!" he exclaimed. "You are such good friends with Mrs.
Krakauer--ain't it?"

Mrs. Schrimm nodded.

"Then you should do me the favour, Henrietta, and go over to Mrs.
Krakauer and tell her she should ring up Babette and tell her I am over
at her house and I wouldn't be back till three o'clock."

"Couldn't you go downtown if you want to?" Mrs. Schrimm replied. "Must
you got to ask Babette's permission first?"

Sam nodded slowly.

"You don't know that girl, Henrietta," he said bitterly. "She is Regina
_selig_ over again--only worser, Henrietta."

"All right. I would do as you want," Mrs. Schrimm declared.

"Only one thing I must got to tell you," Sam said as he made for the
door: "don't let Mrs. Krakauer talk too much, Henrietta, because that
girl is suspicious like a c