“Hi there!” Cooper yelled to the child.  But the latter was sitting in the snow in the middle of the street, rocking back and forth, with the Flanton Dog in his arms.  There was scarcely time for action.  Bob dropped his cigarette and his cane, made one leap into the street and another to the child, and by the impact of his body threw the baby into the drift at the curb.  With a horrified honk the automobile passed over the young man, who lay senseless in the snow.

[Illustration:  BOB COOPER SAVES THE BABY]

He was not killed.  Miss Terry saw him taken to his home close by, where his broken leg was set and his bruises attended to.  She saw him lying bandaged and white on his bed when the woman and her child were brought to see him.  Johnnie was still clasping closely the unlucky Flanton Dog.

“Well, Kid,” said the young man feebly, “so you saved the dog, after all.”

“O sir!” cried the poor woman, weeping.  “Only to think that he would not be here now but for you.  What a Christmas that would have been for me!  You were so good, so brave!”

“Oh, rot!” protested Bob faintly.  “Had to do it; my fault anyway; Christmas Eve,—­couldn’t see a kid hurt on Christmas Eve.”

He called the attendant and asked for the pocket-book which had been in his coat at the time of the accident.  Putting it into the woman’s hand, he said, “Good-by.  Get Johnnie something really jolly for Christmas.  I’m afraid the dog is about all in.  Get him a new one.”

But Johnnie refused to have a new dog.  It was the poor, shapeless Flanton animal which remained the darling of his heart for many a moon.

* * * * *

All this of past and future Miss Terry knew through the Angel’s power.  When once more the library lightened, and she saw the pink figure smiling at her from the mantel, she spoke of her own accord.

“It was my fault, because I put the dog in the way.  I caused all that trouble.”

“Trouble?” said the Angel, puzzled.  “Do you call it trouble? Do you not see what it has done for that heartless youth?  It brought his good moment.  Perhaps he will be a different man after this.  And as for the child; he was made happy by something that would otherwise have been wasted, and he has gained a friend who will not forget him.  Trouble!  And do you think you did it?” He laughed knowingly.

“I certainly did,” said Miss Terry firmly.

“But it was I, yes I, the Christmas Spirit, who put it into your head to do what you did.  You may not believe it, but so it was.  You too, even you, Angelina, could not quite escape the influence of the Christmas Spirit, and so these things have happened.  But now let us see what became of the third experiment.”

CHAPTER X

NOAH AGAIN

In the street of candles a woman dressed all in black had picked up the poor old Noah’s ark and was looking at it wildly.  She was a widow who had just lost her only child, a little son, and she was in a state of morbid bitterness bordering on distraction.