"Dark wig . . . blue chin . . . heavy eyebrows . . . I guess I
can't do better than my old Chicago Ed. make-up. Say, Jimmy, how
am I to get to the kid?"

"That'll be all right. You can stay in my room till the time
comes to go to him. Use it as a dressing-room."

"How am I to get him out of the house?"

"Through this room. I'll tell Jerry to wait out on the
side-street with the car from two o'clock on."

Mr. Crocker considered these arrangements.

"That seems to be about all," he said.

"I don't think there's anything else."

"I'll slip downtown and buy the props."

"I'll go and tell Jerry."

A thought struck Mr. Crocker.

"You'd better tell Jerry to make up, too. He doesn't want the kid
recognising him and squealing on him later."

Jimmy was lost in admiration of his father's resource.