Babes In WENNLand, Part 1

A WENN Fairy Tale: Babes In WENNLand

Rating: PG (mild violence; children in peril; mild innuendo)

Pairings: Betty/Scott, Hilary/Jeff, Maple/Gil Martin

Disclaimer: The characters always belong to Rupert Holmes. The show would belong to American Movie Classics if they'd acknowledge its existence.

Notes: This was inspired by the 1903 Victor Herbert operetta Babes In Toyland, and the many versions of it that has appeared since then, including the films from 1934 and 1961, the TV specials from the mid-50's, 1960, and 1986, and the animated film from 1997.

Lisa Herbert and her brother Alan were sitting in the reception area of Radio Station WENN, waiting for their mother to pick them up after work. Alan just couldn't sit still. He swung his legs and craned his neck this way and that, trying to take in all that was going on around them. It was late, almost dinner time, and Mother still hadn't come. They were at the station where their Grandpa Tom worked to appear on the show 'Tell It to Santa.' The show had ended almost twenty minutes ago, but their mother hadn't yet arrived.

Lisa was used to it. Mother worked as a saleswoman in the toy department of Gimbels' Department Store, a few blocks from WENN on Isabella Street. She was often late picking them up from school or other activities. She never meant to be late, but her shifts occasionally ran overtime. She ran a finger through her dirty blond hair, pulling it back with the velvet bow headband again. She was wearing her best red velvet dress and the shiny red strap shoes that pinched a little because they were new.

“Isn't this excitin'?” Alan asked. “I can't believe we're in a real radio station! And not just any station, but the one that puts on 'Amazon Andy' and 'The Masked Man,' my favorite shows in the whole world!” Lisa couldn't help thinking that if he strained his neck any further, he'd stretch it out until it was as long as a rope of taffy. “I wonder if I'll see Amazon Andy walk through the door?” She just hoped he wouldn't damage his new gray suit. He had the same mop of dirty blond hair and blue eyes that she did, but while she kept hers neat and tidy, Alan's was always flying in all directions. Even when Mother put oil in it, it would still bounce right back up again, like Alfalfa's hair in the Our Gang shorts.

Lisa sniffed. “It's 'excitING,' Alan. Watch your g's.” She rolled her eyes. “And anyway, Amazon Andy and The Masked Man aren't real people. They're just people on shows. Honestly, Alan, I wish you had better taste. You're so childish.”

Alan made a face. “You talk like you're a grown-up! You're only eleven.”

“I'll be twelve in February. That's practically grown-up. Well, almost.”

Betty Roberts frowned as Gertie Reece, WENN's switchboard operator and receptionist, got off the phone. “Were you able to contact their mother at Gimbels', Gertie?”

Gertie sighed. “Yes, but she said it'll be at least a half-hour or more before she can get off work. She's swamped with Christmas orders.”

Betty groaned. “What are we going to do? We're not babysitters, and Mr. Eldridge has work of his own to do!”

Lisa made a face. “You don't have to worry about us. We're old enough to take care of ourselves. This happens a lot with Mother.” She nodded at her brother. “I'm Lisa Herbert. This is Alan. We kind of keep an eye on each other. We'll help watch Grandfather, too. I know his mind wanders.”

Betty nodded. “I'm Betty Roberts.” She nodded at the older red-haired lady. “This is Gertie Reece, our switchboard operator.” The older lady waved.

Alan ignored his sister. “Can I meet Amazon Andy and the Masked Man? Are they still here?”

Betty shook her head. “I'm afraid they're on the air right now, doing the news.”

“Can we do the news?” Alan bounced up and down. “Being on 'Tell It to Santa' was fun!” He made a face as the main entrance to WENN opened. “Except for the really ugly guy who said he was Santa. I'm not surprised those twin kids were scared. He looked like the villains in the Superman comics.”

“I'm so glad my performance left a mark,” Rollie Pruitt sneered as he and Scott Sherwood, WENN's station manager, came in the door. “It's obvious you children don't recognize natural talent.”

“We know when someone isn't Santa!” Alan put his hands on his hips. “You're not Santa! You're too scary to even be Scrooge!”

“How quaint.” Pruitt smirked. “The little one still believes in Santa Claus.”

“I've been trying to talk to him, sir,” Lisa started. Truthfully, she didn't like Mr. Pruitt, either. He yelled at the WENN people and gave all the kids who were at the 'Tell It To Santa' show dirty looks, like he was mad at them for just being there. She also didn't want her brother to get into trouble for talking back to an adult, even if he wasn't a nice adult.

Pruitt patted the boy on the head. “I'm sure you'll grow out of such a charming...and noisy...affliction.” He turned to Scott. “There will be no arguments, Mr. Sherwood. Mrs. Redmond has issued her orders. There will be no more references to any Christmas activities or goings on at this station.”

“Sir, that isn't practical!” Betty joined Scott at the door. “You have to talk some sense into her! Just because she's lonely at Christmas doesn't mean everyone is!”

“Who's lonely?” Alan asked. His sister quieted him. He had no right to interfere with grown-up matters.

“Pruitt, you're a financier,” Scott continued. “You know how important our advertising revenues are to this station's continued survival. If you allow Mrs. Redmond to cancel Christmas, we're the ones who are going to be canceled. The sponsors don't care about niche markets or if Mrs. Redmond is going through a bad time. They want their shows to go on as planned. Broomes Brothers will sue us if we don't do their Christmas Eve special. We'll be the only station in Pittsburgh not mentioning the holidays!”

Pruitt rubbed his head. “And you don't understand that I'm not the one who gave this order. If it were up to me, the Redmonds would have shut this station down the moment they bought it. You talk about practicality, Miss Roberts. How practical is it to keep something going that isn't making money? It would be more practical to close this station and gain the tax benefits.”

“No!” Alan shot out of his seat. “That means there would be no more 'Amazon Andy!' And what about Grandpa Tom, and 'Tell It To Santa'?”

“Alan!” Lisa took his arm and gently pulled him back into his seat. “Sir, I'm sorry. He shouldn't have said that.”

“No, he shouldn't have.” Pruitt glared at them. “It's not your place to talk, either of you. You're only children. You don't know anything. You're to be seen, not heard.”

“I'm not a child!” Lisa shot back.

“Yeah!” added Alan. “And we do know stuff! I'll bet we know more about radio and bein'...being nice to people than you do! Grandpa Tom tells us all about radio!”

“Nice doesn't get you food on the table, child.” He turned his piggy-eyed glare on Scott. “I want to talk to you in my office, Mr. Sherwood.”

“I told you before, sir, it's my office.”

Pruitt only sniffed. “When I'm in Pittsburgh, it's my office. You'll have to find somewhere else to work. The sidewalk would be appropriate.” He gave Scott an odd look. “How did you happen to become the manager here? Mrs. Redmond told me you just...turned up on the doorstep one day?”

Scott had to grit his teeth hard keep him from using inappropriate language in front of ladies and children. “My late friend Victor Comstock recommended me for the job.”

Pruitt raised an eyebrow. “I met Comstock briefly once, in Boston. He was a very erudite man, if rather long-winded at times. You don't seem like someone who would be a bosom companion of his.”

“I've wondered about that for months,” Betty muttered under her breath. She'd always thought something about Scott's sudden arrival seemed more than a little strange.

“You'd be surprised.” Scott immediately looked at his watch. “Oh, would you look at the time? We should really talk about this in MY office.” He hustled the larger man down the hall. What he really wanted to do was punch Pruitt into next Christmas, but not only was that not in the spirit of the season, it could cost him his ill-gotten job.

Lisa glared at her brother. “Can't you keep quiet? Now that mean Mr. Pruitt is mad at Mr. Sherwood!”

“You got him mad at us!” Alan mimicked his sister. “'I'm not a child!' You are a child! So am I!”

“Not that much of a child. And he had no right to say so.”

Gertie sighed. “Why don't I take you kids to the Green Room and see if we have any eggnog and cookies left, before they're both banned from the station?”

“I don't understand why someone would want to take away Christmas,” Alan grumbled as they went through the door and into the green-painted room where the staff ate and relaxed between shows. “That Mrs. Redmond must be even meaner than that Pruitt guy.”

Gertie shook her head as she went to the icebox. “I don't think she's really mean. She seemed pleasant enough when she was here earlier today. She's just kind of sad right now. Her husband died last Christmas, and she misses him.” She emerged with a bottle of eggnog, which she poured into a pair of mismatched glasses.

Lisa frowned. “Oh. That poor lady!” She knew what it was like to miss someone badly at Christmas. Their father left years ago. She missed him every day, but especially during the holidays. Alan was really little then. He didn't remember him the way she did.

Alan made a face as Gertie brought them sugar cookies with fancy colored sprinkles. “That still doesn't mean she can say there's no Christmas. That isn't fair.”

Gertie put the eggnog back in the icebox. “You know what? I agree with you kids. It isn't fair. I've been sad when people I loved passed away, but that doesn't mean I've stopped enjoying the holidays. I think she's so sad and upset, she's forgotten that she's not the only person in Pittsburgh who listens to the radio.”

A tall lady with orange-red hair and a fancy brown hat strutted in. “Gertie, the switchboard is goin',” she said in a funny voice that sort of sounded like Ed Gardiner on the new Duffy's Tavern show. The older lady left, while the tall lady picked up a couple of cookies and poured herself some eggnog. “Hi there!” she said brightly. “You're the kids who ain't been picked up from 'Tell It To Santa' yet. I'm Maple LaMarsh, ya know, like the syrup.”

“Do you know 'Amazon Andy?'” Alan asked, his blue eyes shining hopefully. “You sound like you could be Judo Judy the Japanese gymnast, or his girlfriend Elizabeth.”

“I sure do!” She grinned. “He's on the air right now, doin' the news. I usually play Judo Judy. Hilary Booth plays Elizabeth. I don't know how happy she is about bein' on a kids' show, but we all gotta do our part.”

“Gosh,” Alan said as he sipped his eggnog, “I'd give anything to meet Amazon Andy! Miss Booth sure is lucky!”

Miss Maple winked at them. “Tell that to her.”

Another fellow, smaller and rounder with longish blond hair and a gray hat, followed the lady in. “You know, Miss LaMarsh,” he said as he joined her at the table, “you're very talented. I was really impressed with that bloody good 'Winter Wonderland' you did back there.”

Miss LaMarsh grinned widely, showing some very big and white teeth. “Thanks, Gil. You can call me Maple, like the syrup.”

“Wow, I like your voice, Mr. Gil!” Alan said. “You sound like Ronald Coleman!”

“Or Laurence Olivier,” Lisa added. “Mother thinks he's sooo dreamy.”

Gil gave the kids a friendly smile. “Thanks. It's funny how you Americans get giddy over accents. Where I come from, this is a normal radio voice for Northern England.”

“You're from England?” Lisa asked in surprise. “Aren't you awfully far from home for Christmas?”

“Oh, I'm here as part of an exchange program.” Gil shrugged. “I'm a bachelor. I don't have much in the way of relatives at home, and I thought seein' the US might be something different for the holidays.”

“I'll probably be goin' to Brooklyn for Christmas,” Maple started. She turned to Gil. “Maybe you could join me? Papa wouldn't mind another mouth. My siblings have enough kids of their own as it is.”

Gil smiled. “That's very kind of you, Maple. I may take you up on that offer.”

Another woman, this one with reddish-brown hair and a blue dress with a black hat, sauntered inside, followed by a tall, good-looking younger man with dark curls in a fancy brown suit. “Maple, Mackie will be finished with the news in a minute. He'll need you for 'Amazon Andy' and 'Captain Power and Lightning Lad.'”

“Those are two of my favorite shows!” Alan exclaimed in delight as Maple and Gil headed out arm in arm. “Are you Elizabeth?” he asked the lady. “You're kind of old for Amazon Andy's girlfriend.”

Lisa elbowed Alan hard. Even if the lady was older, it wasn't proper to say so. Mother said you never talked about a lady's age, especially in front of her.

The older woman made a face. “How...charming.” She sighed. “Yes, I play Elizabeth, as well as Lady Voltage and the Queen of Darkness on 'Captain Power.' Your mother might be more familiar with my work. I generally prefer my roles on our soap operas. I'm Hilary Booth, of course.”

Lisa grinned as Alan made a face. “Mother loves you! 'The Hands of Time' is her favorite show. She never misses it. She'll stop in the radio section of Gimbels while she's moving stock so she can hear it all. Sometimes I listen to it when I'm home from school sick.” Even though she really didn't quite get all that talk about amnesia and court trials. She thought it would help her understand grown-ups better.

Miss Hilary beamed. “At least the young lady has impeccable taste.” She turned to the tall man behind her. “Jeffrey, darling, why don't we get something from the water cooler? Eggnog tends to clog your voice box and adds far too many unnecessary calories to your waistline.”

Jeffrey, the tall, handsome fellow, nodded. “I could use some water myself.”

“Are you 'Amazon Andy,' sir?” Alan asked him.

Jeffrey shook his head. “I'm afraid not. I play Kippy, his sidekick.” He nodded at the clock on the wall. “We'd better get moving. We'll need to be on the air ourselves soon.” He smiled. “It was nice to meet you children.”

“You too, Mr. Jeffrey,” Lisa told him as they left.

“I like it here!” Alan declared as he finished his snack. “Everyone is so nice, an' they give you cookies.”

Lisa licked the crumbs off her fingers. “Except Mr. Pruitt. I think he's meaner than Mr. Scrooge.”

Alan nodded. “He's meaner than anybody! I'll bet he's the meanest man in the whole world!”

Lisa groaned. Nasty old Mr. Pruitt just had to come in the green room right as Alan said that. “I see my reputation precedes me,” he sneered.

Scott Sherwood, the shorter man with the black and silver hair and round-cheeked smile, followed him. Scott wasn't smiling now, though. He looked like he wanted to punch that rotten Pruitt in the nose. Betty followed them. She looked really disappointed, like she'd gotten her favorite doll taken away. “You really are something, Pruitt,” Scott growled. “If there weren't kids and a woman present, I'd...”

Pruitt looked down his nose at him. “You'd lose your job. Tsk tsk, Sherwood, behaving like a ruffian in front of impressionable children! Showing your true colors?”

“He's a lot nicer than you are!” Alan grumbled.

“Shouldn't you have left by now, child?” Pruitt turned his snooty gaze to them. Lisa squirmed in her seat. Pruitt's glare was like ice. It went straight through you. “This is not a nursery school.”

“Their mother is late picking them up,” Betty explained quickly. “She'll be here soon.”

“Not soon enough.” He turned to Scott again, shoving a paper into the angry station manager's clenched fist. “Here's the orders. I want the decorations down by tomorrow and the scripts revised by the end of the weekend at the latest.”

“But sir, I'll be going home to Indiana this weekend!” Betty exclaimed.

Pruitt rolled his eyes. “Miss Roberts, that's none of my concern. You can stay or go, but these scripts need to have any references to Christmas eliminated, or it'll be both your jobs.” He glared at Scott. “Especially yours.”

“Fine, Pruitt,” Scott said, fighting to keep his voice and his composure even. “We'll do what you want.”

Pruitt smirked again. “I'm glad you see things my way. Happy New Year.” He walked out, chortling to himself. This station was perfect for his needs...but that insolent, meddling Sherwood would have to go. He was feisty, quick-witted, and far too clever for his own good.

Betty sighed. “Scott, our date for tonight is off. I'm not going to have the time to eat anywhere but here with all these scripts I have to re-write.” She looked at the heavy stack of papers. “I was so looking forward to being able to go home to Indiana for Christmas, but now...”

“Everything will be ok, Betty. You'll see. We'll think of something.” Scott wiped the tear that ran down her cheek gently with his thumb. She looked up at him. “We always think of something. We're a great team.”

Lisa leaned over, interested in the touching scene. Alan just made a face. Mr. Sherwood seemed like a really neat guy, then he had to get all mushy with Miss Betty. In fact, Alan thought he could be Amazon Andy if he wasn't already in charge of the station. And Betty did look a lot more like his idea of the beautiful, smart Elizabeth than Miss Booth.

They were softly gazing into each others 'eyes. “Scott,” Betty said softly, “I...”

Scott just nodded, his throat bobbing. “Yeah.”

Their lips were about to meet – and Lisa's eyes were about to triple in size – when Hilary Booth and Jeffrey Singer stormed through the door. Jeff was wiping Hilary's bright blue blouse off with a handkerchief. Hilary still had a paper cup in her hand.

Betty and Scott broke away, both of them blushing, as Jeff continued to wipe at Hilary. “There, dear. No harm done. I didn't mean to spill the water on you, but the door knocked into me.” He rubbed his forehead. “Good thing no one can see us on the radio. I must have a knot the size of a boulder on my head. I feel like I've broken my crown.”

“I'll break more than that if you're not careful! This blouse is silk! There are no dry cleaners open during the holidays!” She grabbed the handkerchief from him and rubbed at it herself.

Scott rolled his eyes. “Hilary, Jeff, you both look fine. Jeff, I have aspirin in my office if you need it.”

Jeff nodded. “I think I'll take you up on that.”

“You'll need it after I get my hands on you!” Hilary and Jeff were still arguing noisily as they went to the office to find the aspirin.

Scott reached over to a chipped coffee cup on the table, then went over to the kids, showing off his big, plump grin again. “Hi there, gang! I'm Scott Sherwood, the guy in charge of the station. Sorry about Pruitt earlier. I doubt he's used to dealing with anyone who isn't a stockbroker. And don't mind Hilary and Jeff. They argue, but they really do love each other. Most of the time.” He handed both of them candy canes from the coffee cup. “Hope this will make you feel better. We have to get rid of them, anyway.”

Alan took his right away. “Gosh, thanks, Mr. Sherwood!”

Lisa frowned. “Mother says we shouldn't take presents from strangers.” Sure, Mr. Sherwood seemed all right, when he wasn't mad at Mr. Pruitt, and Miss Betty sure liked him. She didn't like the way he tried to butter them up, though. She didn't think he was trustworthy.

Scott just put the candy cane on her lap. “You're a smart kid. Let's just make it a gift, ok?” He turned to Alan. “I'll bet what they really want is to see 'Amazon Andy' live and on the air.”

Alan looked like he'd burst with happiness. “Really, Mr. Sherwood? Could we see 'Amazon Andy' being made? He's my hero!”

Lisa smiled. “I'd like that. It could be very educational to see a real radio show being performed!”

“I'll take you there myself.” They heard a ring on the phone in the office next to the Green Room. Scott quickly gazed at his watch. “Oh, would you look at the time? Why don't I see who's on the phone? Then I'll take you kids to see the show, and Miss Roberts and I will go out to dinner.”

“But Scott...” Betty began, flustered.

Scott was already out the door. “See you in ten minutes!” Lisa watched him dash into the office in the window behind the couch. It was pale blue, and filled with all kinds of unusual objects, including a big stuffed fish and masks from Africa. Lisa saw pictures like it in her geography books. Mr. Sherwood grabbed the phone on the desk and started talking. His face rapidly darkened as he shook his head vehemently.

Betty sighed again. “If Scott thinks I'm going out with him, he has another thing coming. I'm just too busy.”

“I thought you liked him,” Lisa said in a small voice. Lisa could see the look in Miss Betty's eyes. She did want to go out with Mr. Sherwood, but there was something that made her change her mind...and it wasn't entirely her work.

Betty turned to the children behind her. Alan was already busy slurping his candy cane. “I do like him. I mean, he's a friend, and a surprisingly good station manager. You wouldn't believe some of the crazy ideas he came up with when Victor Comstock, the old manager, first sent him here a few months ago. But now, he's...changed. Oh, he still comes up with wild ideas, but he's gentler, somehow. Sometimes, I almost think he cares about the station, and...well, and us.”

Alan gave Betty a red-mouthed grin. “I think he likes you. I'll bet he'll take you on adventures, just like Amazon Andy does with Elizabeth.”

“We have enough adventures just working at this station.” Betty laughed. “If I had a dime for every crazy thing that happened here, I'd have enough money to buy this place.”

“Too bad you don't have that money now,” Lisa pointed out. “Then you could tell Pruitt and Mrs. Redmond to go away.”

Betty shook her head. “I'm not angry with Mrs. Redmond. I don't entirely blame her. I think she's being a bit selfish, but I can see why she's upset. She did just suffer a very sad loss. I don't think she knows anything about radio stations or running them, either.” The small, delicate young woman frowned. “Mr. Pruitt does, though. He knows what will happen if we don't do our Christmas shows.”

Alan was already half-way though his candy cane. “What will happen?”

Betty indicated the big radio console next to the soft old recliner. “The sponsors will drop out of our shows. They don't care if one woman is sad because her husband died. We'll lose our advertising money, which means we'll have less in our budget next year, and our budget is already too small. We could even shut down.”

“No way!” Alan said fiercely. “I want to hear more 'Amazon Andy'!”

“And you'd lose your jobs,” Lisa added.

“That's why we have to find a way to get our Christmas shows to go on without Pruitt knowing.” Betty picked up the pile of papers on the counter. “We need that money to keep the station open.”

An elderly man shuffled in as Betty gathered the papers. Alan grinned. “Grandpa Tom!” He bounced out of his seat and right to him. Lisa followed more slowly.

Mr. Eldridge put his arms around Alan. “Well, hello there, children. Where's your mother? Shouldn't you be at home already?”

Lisa shook her head. “Mother's getting off late. She's still at the store. She'll be here soon.”

“Oh. Well, we'll just have to find something for you to do in the meantime.” Mr. Eldridge turned to Miss Betty. “I just finished vacuuming the hallway, Betty,” he said. “Gertie helped me get untangled from the cord. They jump out and wind around your ankles if you're not careful.”

The kids giggled. Betty had to stifle a laugh of her own. “Thank you, Mr. Eldridge.” She nodded at the two children in Mr. Eldridge's arms. Alan had just finished the last of his candy cane. Lisa quickly threw hers into her pocket. “Would you keep an eye on them while I start these scripts? Scott's with a sponsor, and everyone else is busy or on the air.”

The old man beamed. “You need only ask.”

Betty nodded. “I'm asking. Mr. Sherwood will take them to see 'Amazon Andy' in a few minutes, but they'll need someone to watch them before then.” She pulled a book out of the pile in her arms. “Why don't you read them this? This is what I based the Babes In Toyland 'Book at Bedtime' we did yesterday after.”

“I would love to, Betty.” He shooed her out the door. “Don't you worry about these youngsters. I've helped their mother with them many times.” He turned to them as Betty went to work on her scripts. “Now, how would you like to hear a story?”

“I would!” Alan said. “Does it have a lot of fights and battles and stuff?”

Mr. Eldridge chuckled. “Well, it has the spiders in the Forest of No Return, and the sword fight between Tom Piper and Barnaby in the end.”

Alan grinned. “Spiders? Forest of No Return? Sword fights? I like the sound of that!”

“Your mother and aunts and uncle used to love this story.” Mr. Eldridge sighed, awash in memories. “I took the three of them to the very first opening night of the original Babes In Toyland when it debuted on Broadway in 1903. Oh, it was such a huge event! The children loved it, all the tapping slates and the fancy costumes and the nursery rhyme characters coming to life. They called those big fairy tale shows 'extravaganzas.' It's too bad they'd never be able to afford them now. I think children today would still like them.”

“I like some fairy tales,” Alan said. “Like the one about Jack and the giant.”

Lisa wrinkled her nose. “I'm too old for fairy tales.”

Mr. Eldridge opened the book. “Well, maybe you won't feel that way about this one.” He started to read. “Once upon a time, two children found themselves on a boat bound for the most magical place in the entire world, Toyland! This was where all the fairy tales and nursery rhymes came to life. They were going to live with their uncle, Barnaby the Crooked Man, who was the meanest and richest man in Toyland.” The old man started yawning. “When they got off the boat, they were greeted by...” He yawned deeper. “Tom-Tom, the Piper's Son, who had promised to steal no more...” His eyes were closing. “And Betty Blue, who lost her holiday shoe...and Little Bo Peep...and...”

The old man's head finally fell over the book. He started snoring rather loudly. Lisa put her finger up to her lips. “Shh. Grandpa's sleeping.”

She looked up as a plump little woman bustled into the room. She had a sweet, moon-like face and large blue eyes. She wore a flowery dress with a lacy collar and a big flowered hat and had a calico shawl wrapped around her arms. The shawl reminded Lisa of the bright ones worn by gypsy women in her geography book on Europe. “Why, hello there, children!” she crooned in a sweet voice. “What are you doing here? I thought the 'Tell It To Santa' broadcast ended at least a half-hour ago.”

“We're waiting for our mother, ma'am,” Lisa explained. “Grandpa Tom is...well, I guess we're watching over him now. Are you an actress?”

“Sort of.” She gave them a gentle smile as she got a cup of coffee. “I'm Eugenia Bremer. I host the overnight program, 'The Agitato Alert.' I doubt you kids are allowed to stay up that late.” She yawned. “I'm not usually in until later, but there's so many parties going on at my boarding house, I thought it might be a lot easier to nap here until my show begins.” She held up a paper. “I'm going to get some dinner – or breakfast, in my case – from the Buttery next door. Would you kids like anything?”

Lisa shook her head before Alan could open his mouth. “No thank you, Miss Bremer. It was nice of you to ask, though.”

“That's all right.” Miss Bremer sipped her coffee. “Ahh. I needed this. Well, I hope you have a nice Christmas.”

“You too, Miss Bremer!” Lisa said as the short woman left. Lisa liked her. She thought she seemed a lot like Mrs. Claus...if Mrs. Claus actually existed. She looked more like Mrs. Claus than Miss Booth did.

Alan was watching Mr. Sherwood in the window. He was still on the phone, and not looking much happier. “I wish Mr. Sherwood would finish whatever it is he's doin' in there. I want to meet 'Amazon Andy.'”

“Look!” Lisa held up a simple brown lady's shoe that had been left by the door. “I think Miss Betty lost her shoe. I saw her wearing these when she was here. Maybe we'd better give it back to her.”

“Yeah, she'll be looking for it.” He frowned. “But what about Grandpa, and Mr. Sherwood?”

“If we take it back to her fast, they won't even know.” She got off the couch, then helped him off. “Come on. You have to wash your hands before we go. They're really sticky from the candy cane. You got me all sticky, too!”

“Awww!” She did get Alan to wash after a lot of fussing, then washed her own hands. When they were done, they went out into the hallway. It was quiet. Everyone must have either been on the air or in their offices. The older red-haired lady wasn't even sitting at the front desk anymore.

“Do you see her?” They peered out into the thirteenth floor, outside the main door to the station.

“No,” Lisa admitted. “I don't see Mother, either. I wish she'd come.” That was when she heard voices. “Wait! Alan, there's people coming!”

Alan pushed his way under her. “Who is it?”

“I don't know.” She started to close the door. “But I don't think we should be listening in.”

Alan stopped her. “Aw, sis! What if it's a gangster or something, and he's gonna use his tommy gun on us?”

Lisa tried to close the door again, but Alan got between it. “I told Mother it wasn't a good idea to let you listen to 'Crimebreakers' and 'Jed Jenner, G-Man.' You get too many ideas.”

Alan shook his head quickly. “Shh! They're coming!”

The first person in their line of sight was Mr. Pruitt. This time, he wore a heavy black coat and scarf over his suit. He looked way too happy. Even his grin was crooked.

With him were two men. They both wore plain old suits. One was a very tall, gaunt fellow. He had thin yellow hair and a five-o'clock shadow. His suit hung off him like dust rags. The other man was short and very, very fat. His suit seemed to be ready to pop off any minute. He had a tiny little mustache and beady, glittery eyes.

“I don't care how you do it,” Pruitt was saying. “I want you to find out what that Scott Sherwood did before he came to this station, and what he's up to now. I've heard rumors that he has something going on behind the scenes. I think he's nothing more than a common pig thief and con-man, but I have no proof. I need you...gentlemen...to find that proof.” He smirked. “I'll make sure you're richly rewarded for any information you can unearth on the enterprising Mr. Sherwood.”

The tall man gave Pruitt a crooked smile of his own. “Don't worry, Mr. P. Henry Rodrigo and Calvin Gonzorgo are on the case. We always get our man.”

The short man nodded with a fat little grin. “Soon, you'll know more about that Sherwood guy than his own mudder does.”

“Good.” He handed them each a pile of bills. “I assume that will do for a retainer?”

“More than do, Mr. P.” Mr. Rodrigo put the money in his coat pocket. “Splendid doing business with you. We'll contact you as soon as we come up with information.”

Lisa gasped. “Alan, we have to find Mr. Sherwood! I think Mr. Pruitt wants those men to do something to him.”

“Yeah!” Alan nodded. “I'll bet they're gangsters. Or private eyes, like in the movies.”

Lisa finally pulled him out of the door. “Let's go get Mr. Sherwood. He should know about this.”