ouldn't name more'n four, to save his neck, and the
Fifth-ave. joint he picks out was the one he's most used to.

It ain't what you'd call a fam'ly place. Mostly the people who hang
out there belong to the Spender clan. It's where the thousand-dollar
tenors, and the ex-steel presidents, and the pick of the pony ballet
come for broiled birds and bottled bubbles. But that don't bother
Pinckney a bit; so we blazes right in, kids and all. The head waiter
most has a fit when he spots Pinckney towin' a twin with each hand; but
he plants us at a round table in the middle of the room, turns on the
electric light under the seashell shades, and passes out the food
programs. I looks over the card; but as there wa'n't anything entered
that I'd ever met before, I passes. Gerty, she takes a look around,
and smiles. But the twins wa'n't a bit fazed.

"What will it be, youngsters?" says Pinckney.

"Jam," says they.

"Jam it is," says Pinckney, and orders a couple of jars.

"Don't you think they ought to have something besides sweets?" says
Miss Gerty.

"Blessed if I know," says Pinckney, and he puts it up to the kids if
there wa'n't anything else they'd like.

"Yep!" says they eagerly. "Pickles."

That's what they had too, jam and pickles, with a little bread on the
side. Then, while we was finishin' off the grilled bones, or whatever
it was Pinckney had guessed at, they slides out of their chairs and
organises a game of tag. I've heard of a lot of queer doin's bein'
pulled off in that partic'lar caffy, but I'll bet this was the first
game of cross tag ever let loose there. It was a lively one, for the
tables was most all filled, and the tray jugglers was skatin' around
thick. That only made it all the more interestin' for the kids.
Divin' between the legs of garcons loaded down with silver and china
dishes was the best sport they'd struck in a month, and they just
whooped it up.

[Illustration: THE TWINS ORGANIZE A GAME OF TAG]

I could see the head waiter, standin' on tiptoes, watchin' 'em and
holdin' his breath. Pinckney was beginnin' to look worried too, but
Gerty was settin' there, as calm and smilin' as if they was playin' in
a vacant lot. It was easy to see she wa'n't one of the worryin' kind.

"I wonder if I shouldn't stop them?" says Pinckney.

Before he's hardly got it out, there comes a bang and a smash, and a
fat French waiter goes down with umpteen dollars' worth of fancy grub
and dishes.

"P