"I can," said Mr. Billings, "and I will."

"You had better," said Mrs. Billings.

III. THE TWELVE ACORNS AND THE LADY'S HANDKERCHIEF


You may have noticed, my dear (said Mr. Billings), that the
initials on that handkerchief are "T. M. C.," and I wish you to
keep that in mind, for it has a great deal to do with this story.
Had they been anything else that handkerchief would not have
found its way into my pocket; and when you see how those acorns
and that handkerchief, and the half-filled nursing-bottle and the
auburn-red curls all combined to keep me out of my home until the
unearthly hour of three A. M., you will forget the unjust
suspicions which I too sadly fear you now hold against me, and
you will admit that a half-filled patent nursing-bottle, a trio
of curls, a lady's handkerchief and twelve acorns were the most
natural things in the world to find in my pockets.

When I had left the poor woman with her no-longer-starving baby
I hurriedly glanced into a store window, and by the clock there
saw it was twenty minutes of one and that I had exactly time to
catch the one o'clock train, which is the last train that runs to
Westcote. I glanced up and down the street, but not a car was in
sight, and I knew I could not afford to wait long if I wished to
catch that train. There was but one thing to do, and that was to
take a cab, and, as luck would have it, at that moment an
automobile cab came rapidly around the corner. I raised my voice