Before anyone had a chance to reply, Jonathan Highcrofft was striding to the nest of rags on which Danny was sound asleep. He dropped to his knees. In a moment, his shoulders began to shake, for he was sobbing uncontrollably.
“Wot’s he talkin’ ’bout?” asked Mouse, still with a wary look on his face despite the assurances from Jonathan Highcrofft. “Yer pa’s dead, Robin, an’ Danny’s yer baby brother. Don’t make sense ter me.”
“You never kidnapped him nor nothin’, did you?” asked Spider.
“Aw, wot would he go an’ want ter kidnap a baby fer?” said Duck. “Use wot brain you got, Spider, an’ think ’bout it.”
“Anyone wot’s goin’ ter tell it ter us?” asked Mouse.
“I will later,” Robin said. “I promise. And everything else as well.”
Piggy then walked over and tapped Jonathan Highcrofft on his shoulder. “Danny jist had his evenin’ feedin’ o’ milk,” he said. “Oncet that happens, he’s out like a bleedin’ little light. You c’n pick him up an’ never hear no peep out o’ him.”
Jonathan Highcrofft leaned down and picked Danny up as if he were made of spun glass. Tears were still rolling down his cheeks as he stared at the baby.
“Yes, he’s a Highcrofft all right. There’s no mistaking it. But I hope you will all understand that I want to take him home to my wife at once. You’ll hear the whole story from Robin later, but I want you to know now that until tonight, I didn’t know our baby was alive. My wife still doesn’t know. And Robin, I want you to come with me, for there are many things I want to settle tonight, late though the hour is getting to be. But I want to thank you boys for what you have done. And again I make my promise that your lives will only change for the better, and you have nothing to fear.”
Then suddenly, through his tears, Jonathan Highcrofft managed to produce a boyish grin. “Come to think of it, we might even start that change tonight. What, by the way, did you boys enjoy for supper this evening?”
“We didn’t enjoy nothin’,” said Mouse. “We had our usual o’ stale bread.”
“Don’t fergit water,” Spider said. “We had that, too.”
“And that was it?” said the disbelieving Jonathan Highcrofft.
“Split up an apple,” said Duck, giving it further thought.
“An’ the worms in it,” Spider said, wrinkling his nose.
“Well,” said Jonathan Highcrofft. “Mrs. Beckett, our cook, prepared a roast chicken for my wife and me tonight. When she does a chicken, she always does two so we can enjoy it for our luncheon the next day. I’m sure she won’t mind planning something else for us. So, how would you boys like to come with Robin, Danny, and me, and dine on roast chicken? If I’m not mistaken, there were some roast potatoes left. And, oh yes, a cake with cream layers and a very good frosting.”
“Choclit?” asked Spider, his eyes popping.
“I believe so,” replied Jonathan Highcrofft. “A very rich, dark chocolate, if I’m not mistaken.”
Needless to say, when he climbed back into his carriage, delirious with happiness, he not only had his baby and Robin with him—and an old cloth shopping bag filled with diapers, bottles, and a tiny tin spoon and bowl, which Piggy had insisted he must take along—but four awestruck boys crowded on the front seat across from him.
Chapter XIX
A Vile Crime
As soon as Jonathan Highcrofft, carrying Danny, had let himself into his home with the five boys at his heels, four of them goggle-eyed at seeing this elegant room for the first time, he rang the bell for his butler. Fletcher appeared almost before the bell had stopped ringing.
“Here, Robin,” Jonathan Highcrofft said, handing him the bundle that was the peacefully sleeping Danny. Then he peeled off his hat and coat and handed them to Fletcher. “Fletcher, is Mrs. Highcrofft still in the drawing room?” he asked.
“Yes, Mr. Highcrofft,” replied Fletcher, who as a perfect butler never allowed his expression to change when he saw the friends his employer had brought with him.
“Well, then,” said Jonathan Highcrofft, taking Danny back from Robin, “would you please escort these young men out to the kitchen, and ask Mrs. Beckett to sit them all down at the kitchen table, and allow them to have all they want of that second roast chicken I know she has prepared. Any potatoes and other vegetables she has left from supper may also be served. And please remind her that they’re to have as much of that cream cake with the chocolate frosting as they can cram into themselves.
“I’ll want some time alone with Mrs. Highcrofft. Then I’ll ring and ask you to deliver some urgent notes to my cousin Franklin and my grandfather. After that, I’ll want you to escort this young man”—he pointed to Robin—“into the drawing room. As for you other fellows, if you don’t mind, I’ll ask you to remain in the kitchen for a while after Robin leaves you, until I call for you. You can entertain Mrs. Beckett with stories of stale bread, and worms in apples, and all the rest. I’ve little doubt she’ll find that very interesting!”
What Fletcher thought of the ragged guests he was escorting through the house was certainly never revealed in the rigid expression on his face. It is possible, however, that when he saw one slack-jawed guest roll his eyes and punch another guest in the ribs, the faintest smile might have passed over his face. There was no way, of course, that this phenomenon could ever be confirmed.
When Robin was finally summoned to the drawing room by Fletcher, he found Adelaide Highcrofft sitting on a settee
