That afternoon the Force automobile came for Kathleen. Mr. and Mrs.
Force were confronted by Diggs as they came up the steps. He gave them
the news.

"The deuce you say," said Force, backing down the steps. "Has she been
exposed?"

Mr. Bingle appeared in the doorway. "Come in, please," he said,
covering his bare head with a newspaper. "Got some bad news for you."

"What the devil do you mean, Bingle, by running around among the riff-
raff of all New York, picking up germs and bringing 'em out here to a
house full of children? See what you've done, gallivanting around with
Rouquin's cheap--"

"Oh, come now, Force! Don't blame poor little Napoleon. It takes ten
days or so for a case to develop and I saw Napoleon only two days ago.
Come in, won't you? I can't stand here in the--"

"No, thank you," exploded Mr. Force. "I've never had the infernal
thing, and it's usually fatal in adults. I wouldn't expose myself to
it for a million dollars. Shut the door, Diggs, confound you! Do you
want to have the microbes blowing out here into my very face? Get back
in the car, dear! Lord, what a nice mess it is. Hang it all, Bingle,
didn't I tell you in so many words not to let Kathleen play around
with all those little--"

"Kathleen hasn't got it--yet," said Mr. Bingle hotly. "Only two of 'em
have shown--"