“Say,” began Philip, “you forgot something, Mary.”

“What have I forgotten, dear?”

“Why, it’s Christmas Eve and we must hang up our stockings.”

Mary threw up her hands.  “I am afraid this is too far away for Santa Claus.  He won’t know that we are out here,” she said.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Henry, thinking rapidly, “let them hang them up.”

Mary looked at him in surprise.  “They haven’t any to hang up,” she said.  “We can’t take those they’re wearing.”

“You should have thought of that,” wailed Philip, “before you brought us here.”

“I have some extra ones in my bag,” said Henry.  “We will hang them up.”

He opened the bag and brought out three stockings, one for each of his guests.  He fastened them to the baggage racks above the seats and watched the two boys contentedly close their eyes and go to sleep.

“They will be awfully disappointed when they wake up in the morning and do not find anything in them,” said Mary.

“They’re going to find something in them,” said Henry confidently.

He went to the end of the car, opened his trunk and lifted out various packages which had been designed for him.  Of course he was going on sixteen, but there were some things that would do for Philip and plenty of things for George and some good books that he had selected himself that would do for Mary.  Then there were candy and nuts and cakes and oranges galore.  Mary was even more excited than he was as they filled the boys’ stockings and arranged things that were too big to go in them.

“These are your own Christmas gifts, I know,” said the girl, “and you haven’t hung up your stocking.”

“I don’t need to.  I have had my Christmas present.”

“And what is that?”

“A chance to make a merry Christmas for you and your little brothers,” answered Henry, and his heart was light.

“How long do you suppose we will have to stay here?” asked the girl.

“I don’t know.  I suppose they will try to dig us out to-morrow.  Meanwhile we have nuts, oranges, crackers, and little cakes, to say nothing of the candy, to live on.  Now you go to bed and have a good sleep.”

“And what will you do?”

“I’ll stay up for a while and read one of these books and keep the fire going.”

“You are awfully good to us,” said Mary, turning away.  “You are just like a real Santa Claus.”

“We have to help other people—­especially people in trouble,” answered the boy.  “It is one of the first Scout rules.  I am really glad I got left behind and found you.  Good-night.”

The girl, whose experience that day had been hard, soon fell asleep with her brothers.  Henry did not feel sleepy at all; he was bright and happy and rejoiced.  This certainly was an adventure.  He wondered what Dick and Joe and Spike and the other fellows of his troop would think when he wrote them about it.  He did not realize that he had saved the lives of the children, who would assuredly have frozen to death in the cabin.