antiphony. Mrs. Wiley gathered her two rosy-cheeked
youngsters close to her skirts and did not smile until she had seen
Wiley laugh and shake his head. Again a refusal.

Trinidad and the Judge vainly exhausted more than half their list
before twilight set in among the hills. They spent the night at a
stage road hostelry, and set out again early the next morning. The
wagon had not acquired a single passenger.

"It's creepin' upon my faculties," remarked Trinidad, "that borrowin'
kids at Christmas is somethin' like tryin' to steal butter from a man
that's got hot pancakes a-comin'."

"It is undoubtedly an indisputable fact," said the Judge, "that
the--ah--family ties seem to be more coherent and assertive at that
period of the year."

On the day before Christmas they drove thirty miles, making four
fruitless halts and appeals. Everywhere they found "kids" at a
premium.

The sun was low when the wife of a section boss on a lonely railroad
huddled her unavailable progeny behind her and said:

"There's a woman that's just took charge of the railroad eatin' house
down at Granite Junction. I hear she's got a little boy. Maybe she
might let him go."

Trinidad pulled up his mules at Granite Junction at five o'clock in
the afternoon. The train had just departed with its load of fed and
appeased passengers.

On the steps of the eating house they found a thin and glowering boy
of ten smoking a cigarette. The dining-room had been left in chaos by
the peripatetic appetites. A youngish woman reclined, exhausted, in a
chair. Her face wore sharp lines of worry. She had once possessed a
certain style of beauty that would never wholly leave her and would
never wholly return. Trinidad set forth his mission.

"I'd count it a mercy if you'd take Bobby for a while," she said,
wearily. "I'm on the go from morning till night, and I don't have time
to 'tend to him. He's learning bad habits from the men. It'll be the
only chance he'll have to get any Christmas."

The men went outside and conferred with Bobby. Trinidad pictured the
glories of the Christmas tree and presents in lively colours.

"And, moreover, my young friend," added the Judge, "Santa Claus
himself will personally distribute the offerings that will typify the
gifts conveyed by the shepherds of Bethlehem to--"

"Aw, come off," said the boy, squinting his small eyes. "I ain't no
kid. There ain't any Santa Claus. It's your folks that buys toys and
sneaks 'em in when yo