Let me get her cap and coat." "Where are they ?" he asked, suspiciously.
"Right here, in the library,--just across the hall." "Go on, then,--I trust you, 'cause I think you're sensible.

I'd go along and keep you in sight, but I want to keep watch if anybody comes.

But you sing, or whistle or something, so's I'll know you're right there." "All right," and Azalea's heart beat fast, for she had a splendid scheme.
Into the library she carried Fleurette, singing as she went, and once in the room, she put the baby on a chair and flew for the record rack.
Quickly she found the record of the baby's crying spell and put it in place in the phonograph.
Then, picking up Fleurette, she set the needle going and hurried from the room.
Merritt, hearing the cries, screams and sobs, scowled with anger at the baby's fit of ill temper, but never dreamed that it was not really the child crying at all.
So Azalea had ample chance to escape by a back door from the library, and crossing the dining-room went out on a side porch that faced the Gale place.
Looking carefully to see that Merritt had not followed her, and listening a moment to learn how much longer the record,--of which she knew every familiar sound,--would last, she ran with all the speed of which she was capable over to the Gales'.
Van Reypen was just taking leave, and he, as well as the others present, looked in amazement at the flying figure coming nearer and nearer until Azalea reached the group.
"Take her," she said to Mrs.Gale, as she gave her the baby, "keep her safe--_safe_!" And then Azalea went flying back.
The record was finished,--and with the sudden stop of the child's crying Merritt had started into the library to see what it meant.
There Azalea found him, and she faced him bravely.
"That baby is safe," she said, "where you can't get at her! And now I will tell you what I think of _you_! You are a thief and a scoundrel! You don't deserve to be allowed to carry on a reputable business! I don't want any further connection with you or your company.

I am proud to be fired from such a lot of bandits as you people are!" So angry was she, and so unguarded as to what she was saying that she fairly flung the words at him.
For a moment he was stunned at her wild tirade, and then his artist instinct was stirred,--for the picture she made was beautiful and dramatic.

She had no thought of this, for she was in earnest, and her whole soul was up in arms at thought of the threatened abduction of Fleurette.