“But he ain’t goin’ to put me out.”

“He says he is.  Now—­now—­clear out and don’t bother me.  When that mortgage falls due I’ll let you know what I intend doin’ with it.  If you pester me now I won’t renew anyhow.  Go along home and quit your frettin’.  Long’s you’re there, you be there.  What more do you want?”

There was a good deal more of this sort of thing, but it was all quite as unsatisfactory.  Thankful gave it up at last.

“I shan’t come here again,” she declared desperately.  “If you want to see me you can come to my place.”

“Humph!”

“Well, you will, or not see me.  Why haven’t you been there?  Time and time again you have promised to come, but you never have.  I shall begin to believe there is some reason why you don’t want to go into that house.”

She was on her way to the door, but Solomon called after her.

“Here!” he shouted.  “Hold on!  What do you mean by that?  Why shouldn’t I go into that house if I want to?  Why shouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know; all I know is that you don’t seem to want to.  I can’t say why you don’t want to, but—­”

“But what?”

“But, maybe, if someone that’s dead and gone was here—­he could.”

“He—­he—­who?  What?  Hi!  Where you goin’?”

“I’m goin’ home.”

“No, you ain’t—­not until you tell me what you mean by—­by somebody that’s dead and gone.  What kind of talk is that?  What do you mean?”

“Maybe I don’t know what I mean, Solomon; but I think you do.  If you don’t then your looks belie you, that’s all.”

She went out of the “henhouse.”  As she drove away she saw Mr. Cobb peering at her through the window.  He was “weeding” with both hands and he looked agitated and—­yes, frightened.  Thankful was more than ever certain that his mysterious behavior was in some way connected with his past dealings with her Uncle Abner, but, not knowing what those dealings might have been, the certainty was not likely to help her.  And he had not said that he would renew the mortgage.

Georgie was the first to meet her when she drove into the yard.  He had been spending the day with Captain Obed and had coaxed the latter into telling him stories of Santa Claus.  Georgie’s mind was now filled with anticipations of Christmas and Christmas presents, and his faith in Santa, which had been somewhat shaken during his year at kindergarten in South Middleboro, was reviving again.  The captain and Imogene and Mrs. Barnes all helped in the revival.  “Christmas loses three-quarters of its fun when old Santa’s took out of it,” declared Captain Obed.  “I know, ‘count of havin’ been a young one myself a thousand year ago or such matter.  This’ll probably be the second mate’s last Santa Claus Christmas, so let’s keep this one the real thing for the boy.”

So he and Imogene and Thankful—­yes, even Kenelm—­discussed Santa for Georgie’s benefit and Georgie believed, although his belief was not as absolute and unquestioning as it had once been.  He asked a great many questions, some of which his elders found hard to answer.  His dearest wish was for an air-gun, but somehow Mrs. Barnes did not seem to think the wish would be gratified.  She had a strong presentiment that the combination of Georgie and an air-gun and the chickens might not be a desirable one, especially for the chickens.