Thankful's Inheritance Part 56

"They said I was comin'!" he repeated. "They said--WHO said so?"

"Why, everybody. Aunt Thankful and Emily and Imogene and Cap'n Bangs and Mr. Parker and--all of 'em. They knew you was comin' tonight, but I--"

"They knew it! Boy, are you crazy?"

Georgie shook his head.

"No, sir." Then, as Santa Claus sat staring blankly with open mouth and fingers plucking nervously at what seemed to be the only b.u.t.ton on his coat, he added, "Please, sir, did you bring the air-gun?"

"Hey?"

"Did you bring the air-gun I wanted? They said you probably wouldn't, but I do want it like everything. I won't shoot the hens, honest I won't."

Santa Claus picked at the b.u.t.ton.

"Say, boy," he asked, slowly. "Who am I?"

Georgie was surprised.

"Why, Santa Claus," he replied. "You are Santa Claus, ain't you?"

"Eh? San . . . Oh, yes, yes! I'm Santa Claus, that's who I be." He seemed relieved, but still anxious. After fidgeting a moment he added, "Well, I cal'late I'll have to be goin' now."

Georgie turned pale.

"But--but where are the presents?" he wailed. "I--I thought you wasn't goin' to be cross with me. I'm awfully sorry I stayed up to watch for you. I won't ever do it again. PLEASE don't go away and not leave me any presents. Please, Mr. Santa Claus!"

Santa started. "Sshh!" he commanded in an agonized whisper. "Hush up!

Somebody'll hear. . . . Eh? What's that?"

The front stairs creaked ominously. Georgie did not answer; he made a headlong dive for his hiding-place beneath the sofa. Santa seemed to be even more alarmed than the youngster. He glanced wildly about the room and, as another creak came from the stairs, darted into the dining-room.

For a minute or more nothing happened. Then the door leading to the front hall, the door which had been standing ajar, opened cautiously and Mrs. Barnes' head protruded beyond its edge. She looked about the room; then she entered. Emily Howes followed. Both ladies wore wrappers now, and Thankful's hand clutched an umbrella, the only weapon available, which she had s.n.a.t.c.hed from the hall rack as she pa.s.sed it. She advanced to the center table.

"Who's here?" she demanded firmly. "Who lit this lamp? Georgie! Georgie Hobbs, we know you're here somewhere, for we heard you. Show yourself this instant."

Silence--then Emily seized her cousin's arm and pointed. A small bare foot protruded from beneath the sofa fringe. Thankful marched to the sofa and, stooping, grasped the ankle above the foot.

"Georgie Hobbs," she ordered, "come out from under this sofa."

Georgie came, partly of his own volition, partly because of the persuasive tug at his ankle.

"Now, then," ordered Thankful; "what are you doin' down here? Answer me."

Georgie did not answer. He marked a circle on the floor with his toe.

"What are you doin' down here?" repeated Mrs. Barnes. "Did you light that lamp?"

"No'm," replied Georgie.

"Of course he didn't, Auntie," whispered Emily. "There was someone here with him. I heard them talking."

"Who did light it?"

Georgie marked another circle. "Santa Claus," he muttered faintly.

Thankful stared, first at the boy and then at her cousin.

"Mercy on us!" she exclaimed. "The child's gone crazy. Christmas has struck to his head!"

But Emily's fears were not concerning her small brother's sanity. "Hush, Auntie," she whispered. "Hush! He was talking to someone. We both heard another voice. WHO did you say it was, Georgie?"

"Santa Claus. Oh, Emmie, please don't be mad. I--I wanted to see him so--and--and when he came I--I--"

"There, there, Georgie; don't cry, dear. We're not cross. You were talking to someone you thought was Santa. Where is he?"

"He WAS Santa Claus. He SAID he was. He went away when you came--into the dinin'-room."

"The dining-room? . . . Auntie, WHAT are you doing? Don't!"

But Thankful had seized the lamp and was already at the threshold of the dining-room. Holding the light aloft she peered into that apartment.

"If there's anybody here," she ordered, "they'd better come out because.

. . . Here! I see you under that table. I--"

She stopped, gasped, and staggered back. Emily, running to her side, was just in time to prevent the lamp falling to the floor.

"Oh, Auntie," cried the young lady. "Auntie, what IS it?"

Thankful did not answer. Her face was white and she moved her hands helplessly. And there in the doorway of the dining-room appeared Santa Claus; and if ever Santa Claus looked scared and apprehensive he did at that moment.

Emily stared at him. Mrs. Barnes uttered a groan. Santa Claus smiled feebly.

"h.e.l.lo, Thankful," he said. "I--I cal'late you're surprised to see me, ain't you?"

Thankful's lips moved.

"Are--are you livin' or--or dead?" she gasped.

"Me--Oh, I'm alive, but that's about all. Hey? It's Emily, ain't it?

Why--why, Emily, don't you know me?"

Miss Howes put the lamp down upon the table. Then she leaned heavily upon a chair back.

"Cousin Jedediah!" she exclaimed. "It can't be--it--Auntie--"

But Thankful interrupted. She turned to Georgie.