mustn't let them put me in a home;
for then I couldn't go with Daddums when he came out--you see?"

Sure, we saw--that and a lot more. I could tell that Vee was puzzlin'
over the situation by the way she was starin' at the youngster and
grippin' her muff. Course you might say we wa'n't any Rescue Mission, or
anything like that; but somehow this was diff'rent. Here was Helma,
right in front of us! And I'm free to admit the proposition was too much
for me.

"Gee!" says I. "Handed out rough sometimes, ain't it? What's the answer,
Vee?"

"There's only one," says she. "I'm going to take Helma home with me."

"What about Aunty?" says I.

At which Vee's lips come together and her shoulders straighten. "I
know," says she, "there'll be a row. Aunty's always saying that such
affairs should be handled by institutions. But this time--well, we'll
see. Come, Helma."

"Oh, is it true?" gasps the youngster. "May I go with you? May I?"

And as I tucked 'em into a taxi, Arabella and all, Vee whispers:
"Torchy, if you're any good at all, you'll go straight and find out all
about Daddums and just make them let him out!"

"Eh?" says I. "Make 'em--say, ain't that some life-sized order?"

"Perhaps," says she. "But you needn't come to see us until you've found
him. Good-by!"

Just like that I got it! And, say, there wa'n't any use tryin' to kid
myself into thinkin' maybe she don't mean it. I'd seen how strong this
story of little Helma's had got to her; and, believe me, when Vee gets
real stirred up over anything she's some earnest party--no four-flushin'
about her! And it don't seem to make much diff'rence who blocks the
path. Look at her then, sailin' off to go up against a stiff-necked,
cold-eyed Aunty, who's a believer in checkbook charity, and mighty
little of that! And just so I won't feel out of it she tosses me a job
that would keep a detective bureau and a board of pardons busy for a
month.

"Whiffo!" says I, gawpin' up the avenue after the cab. "And I pulled
this down just by bein' halfway human! Oh, very well, very well! Here's
where I strain something!"

Course, if I hadn't knocked around a newspaper office more or less, I
wouldn't have known where to begin any more than--well, than the average
private sec would. But them two years I spent outside the Sunday
editor's door wa'n't all wasted. For instance, that's where I got to
know Whitey Weeks. And now my first move is to pike down to old
Newspaper Row and locate hi