inly hard work, for he groaned
occasionally and kept putting the point of the pencil into his mouth.
Georgie's curiosity grew stronger each second. Unconscious of what he
was doing, he parted the fringe still more and thrust out his head for a
better view. The top of his head struck the edge of the sofa with a dull
thump.

Santa Claus jumped as if someone had stuck a pin into him and turned.
That portion of his face not covered by the scraggly beard was as white
as mud and dirt would permit.

"Who--who be YOU?" he demanded in a frightened whisper.

Georgie was white and frightened also, but he manfully crept out from
beneath the sofa.

"Who be you?" repeated Santa.

"I--I'm Georgie," stammered the boy.

"Georgie! Georgie who?"

"Georgie Hobbs. The--the boy that lives here."

"Lives--lives HERE?"

"Yes." It seemed strange that the person reputed to know all the
children in the world did not recognize him at sight.

Apparently he did not, however, for after an instant of silent and shaky
inspection he said:

"You mean to say you live here--in this house? Who do you live with?"

"Mrs. Barnes, her that owns the house."

Santa gasped audibly. "You--you live with HER?" he demanded. "Good Lord!
She--she ain't married again, is she?"

"Married! No--no, sir, she ain't married."

"Then--then--See here, boy; what's your name--your whole name?"

"George Ellis Hobbs. I'm Mr. Hobbs's boy, up to South Middleboro, you
know. I'm down here stayin' with Aunt Thankful. She--"

"Sshh! sshh! Don't talk so loud. So you're Mr. Hobbs's boy, eh?
What--eh? Oh, yes, yes. You're ma was--was Sarah Cahoon, wa'n't she?"

"Yes, sir. I--I hope you won't be cross because I hid under the sofa.
They said you were coming, but I wasn't sure, and I--I thought I'd hide
and see if you did. Please--" the tears rushed to Georgie's eyes at the
dreadful thought--"please don't be cross and go away without leaving me
anything. I'll never do so again; honest, I won't."

Santa seemed to have heard only the first part of this plea for
forgiveness. He put a hand to his forehead.

"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 nervo