Before uttering a word she dragged him into the little sitting-room and closed the door.

They were alone.
"Is it dead ?" he panted.
"No, but what do you think, Anderson ?" she questioned excitedly.
"I ain't had time to think.

You don't mean to say it has begun to talk an' c'n tell who it is," he faltered.
"Heavens no--an' it only six weeks old." "Well, then, what in thunder _has_ happened ?" "A _detective_ has been here." "Good gosh!" "Yes, a _real_ detective.

He's out there in the kitchen gettin' his feet warm by the bake-oven.

He says he's lookin' for a six-weeks-old baby.
Anderson, we're goin' to lose that twenty thousand." "Don't cry, Eva; mebby we c'n find another baby some day.