for Swanson's sister's child--well, never mind. We sha'n't have it. He
says its name is Ole at present but I suppose it could be called
Richelieu if taken in time. Still that's neither here nor there. I've
been thinking lately, my dear, that we ought to call our next boy
Joseph--after his grand-uncle, don't you see. We owe that much to poor
old Uncle Joe. Will you bear it in mind?"

"We COULD call the next one Josephine," she said.

He grinned. "Uncle Joe would turn over in his grave," said he.

That evening Mr. Force telephoned to Seawood.

"That you, Bingle?" came in rather muffled tones over the wire.

"Yes, this is Mr. Bingle."

"This is Force. We are sailing to-morrow for--"

"I can't hear you. Stand a little closer to the 'phone, please."

"I say we are sailing to-morrow for Europe. I'm standing close to it,
Bingle. There's some one in the next booth. I can't yell, you know. I--"

"Where are you?"

"At the Plaza. I just wanted to tell you that I've fixed everything up
with the detective agency. Not a word of that little matter will ever
become public. Their lips have been sealed."