Roger hadn't pushed him out of the window after his hireling--I'd--I'd--"

A shriek from Muriel happily prevented the completion of a sentence that
gave every promise of intensifying the prevailing hard feeling.

"Look!" Muriel cried. "It's Billie come back! Oh, Billie!"

She sprang toward the door and clasped the frightened child to her heart.
The three men gathered round them, staring dully. The Hopper from behind
the door waited for Muriel's joy over Billie's return to communicate
itself to his father and the two grandfathers.

"Me's dot two chick-ees for Kwismus," announced Billie, wriggling in his
mother's arms.

Muriel, having satisfied herself that Billie was intact,--that he even
bore the marks of maternal care,--was in the act of transferring him to
his bewildered father, when, turning a tear-stained face toward the door,
she saw The Hopper awkwardly twisting the derby which he had donned as
proper for a morning call of ceremony. She walked toward him with quick,
eager step.

"You--you came back!" she faltered, stifling a sob.

"Yes'm," responded The Hopper, rubbing his hand across his nose. His
appearance roused Billie's father to a sense of his parental
responsibility.

"You brought the boy back! You are the kidnaper!"