up a collection for the Crown Prince? In the endeavor to solve this mystery she went to great lengths, often as far as Flatbush, in the pursuit of a man—only to have him turn at bay and bite her in the elbow.
One day, and, curiously enough it happens to be the very day of which we are speaking, Angie awoke with a presentiment that her luck had changed. It wasn’t merely that she found a comforter on the bed with her. She was used to that; and besides, its patchwork was too old and ragged to comfort her any longer. No, it was an uneasy, seasick feeling that there was somebody under the bed. Why, otherwise, should her mattress be heaving up and down as if she were crossing the English Channel in a bathtub? Also, strange, muffled sounds came from amidships, and the springs sprang, as if Father were searching for a collar button or a lost will.
Now, although to Angie it all seemed too good to be true, the prudish may consider it too true to be good. But, at all events, the facts, like the person under the bed, must come out. And so, after removing a few old shoes, an adding machine and a cat’s
