“But why won’t he bring it, Auntie?” demanded Georgie.  “You say he brings good boys what they want.  I’ve been a good boy, ain’t I?”

“’Deed you have.  I wouldn’t ask for a better one.”

“Then why won’t Santa bring me the gun?”

“Perhaps he’ll think a gun isn’t nice for such a little boy to have.”

“But it is nice.  It’s nicer’n anything.  If I’m good and I want it I don’t see why I can’t have it.  I think Santa’s mean if he don’t bring it.”

“Oh no, he isn’t mean.  Just think how good he is!  He comes to every boy and girl—­”

“No, he don’t.”

“Why yes, he does.  To every good little boy and girl.”

“He never came to Patsy Leary that lived up on the lots in Middleboro.  Patsy said he didn’t; he said there wasn’t any Santa Claus, Patsy did.”

“Hum!  Perhaps Patsy wasn’t good.”

“Gee!  Yes, he was.  He can play baseball better’n any boy I know.  And he can lick any kid his size; he told me he could.”

This crushing proof of young Leary’s goodness was a staggerer for Thankful.  Before she could think of a reply Georgie asked another question.

“You say he’ll come down the chimney?” he queried.

“Yes.”

“The livin’-room chimney?”

“Yes, probably.”

“No, he won’t.”

“Georgie!”

“How can he?  He’s so fat; he’s ever so fat in the pictures.  How can he get through the stovepipe?”

Mrs. Barnes’ answer was evasive and Georgie noticed the evasion.  However, his trust in his Aunt Thankful was absolute and if she said a fat man could get through a stovepipe he probably could.  But the performance promised to be an interesting one.  Georgie wished he might see it.  He thought a great deal about it and, little by little, a plan began forming in his mind.

Three days before Christmas Emily Howes arrived at the High Cliff House.  She was received with rejoicings.  The young lady looked thinner than when she went away and seemed more grave and careworn.  But when Thankful commented upon her appearance Emily only laughed and declared herself quite well and perfectly happy.  She and her cousin discussed all topics of common interest except one, that one was John Kendrick.  Once or twice Thankful mentioned the young man’s name, but invariably Emily changed the subject.  It was evident that she did not wish to speak of John; also it was, to Mrs. Barnes, just as evident that she thought of him.  Thankful believed that those thoughts were responsible for the change in her relative’s look and manner.

Christmas was to be, as Thanksgiving had been, a day free from boarders at the High Cliff House.  Caleb was again “asked out,” and Mr. Daniels, so he said, “called away.”  He had spent little time in East Wellmouth of late, though no one seemed to know exactly where he had been or why.

The day before Christmas was cold and threatening.  Late in the afternoon it began to rain and the wind to blow.  By supper time a fairly able storm had developed and promised to develop still more.  Captain Obed, his arms filled with packages, all carefully wrapped and all mysterious and not to be opened till the next day, came in just after supper.