he numbers fell slower--and yet more
slowly--from her lips, until (and she was keenly on the watch) a gentler
look overspread the doctor's face; and then she rattled them off, as
though she feared he might change his mind once more.

"----an' a hundred!" she concluded, breathless.

"Well," the doctor drawled, rubbing his nose, "I'll modify it,"
whereupon Martha smiled, "just to 'blige _you_," whereupon she blushed.

So he scratched a deal of the letter out; then he sealed it, strode to
the stove, opened the door, flung the letter into the flames, slammed
the door, and turned with a wondrously sweet smile to the amazed little
Jutts.

"There!" he sighed. "I think that will do the trick. We'll soon know, at
any rate."

We waited, all very still, all with eyes wide open, all gazing fixedly
at the door of the stove. Then, all at once--and in the very deepest of
the silence--the doctor uttered a startling "Ha!" leaped from his chair
with such violence that he overturned it, awkwardly upset Jimmie Jutt's
stool and sent the lad tumbling head over heels (for which he did not
stop to apologize); and there was great confusion: in the midst of which
the doctor jerked the stove door open, thrust in his arm, and snatched a
blazing letter straight from the flames--all before Jimmie and Martha
and Sammy Jutt had time to recover from the daze into which the sudden
uproar had thrown them.

"There!" cried the doctor, when he had managed to extinguish the blaze.
"We'll just see what's in this. Better news, I'll warrant."

You may be sure that the little Jutts were blinking amazement. There
could be no doubt about the authenticity of _that_ communication. And
the doctor seemed to know it: for he calmly tore the envelope open,
glanced the contents over, and turned to Martha, the broadest of grins
wrinkling his face.

"Martha Jutt," said he, "will you _please_ be good enough to read
_that_."

And Martha read:

_North Pole_, Dec. 24, 10:18 P.M.

_To Captain Blizzard,_
_Jonas Jutt's Cottage, Topmast Tickle_,
_Labrador Coast._

RESPECTED SIR:

Regret erroneous report. Mistake of a clerk in the Bureau of
Information. Santa Claus got away at 9:36. Wind blowing due south,
strong and fresh.

SNOW, Chief Clerk.

Then there was a great outburst of glee. It was the doctor who raised
the first ch