ses of the storm.

"I don't hear anything," she said.

"No--no, you can't hear it from here. Come out into the hall."

Cautiously and on tiptoe she led the way to the hall and toward the head
of the front stairs. There she seized her cousin's arm and whispered in
her ear.

"Listen--!" she breathed.

Thankful listened.

"Why--why," she whispered, "there's somebody down in the livin'-room!
Who is it?"

"I don't know. There are more than one, for I heard them talking. Who
CAN it be?"

Thankful listened again.

"Where's Georgie?" she whispered, after a moment.

"In his room, I suppose. . . . What? You don't think--"

Thankful had tiptoed back to her own room and was returning with the
lamp. Together they entered Georgie's bed chamber. But bed and room were
empty. Georgie was not there.

CHAPTER XV

Georgie had gone to bed that Christmas Eve with a well-defined plan in
his small head. He knew what he intended doing and how he meant to do
it. The execution of this plan depended, first of all, upon his not
falling asleep, and, as he was much too excited to be in the least
sleepy, he found no great difficulty in carrying out this part of his
scheme.

He had heard the conversation accompanying Mr. Cobb's unexpected
entrance and had waited anxiously to ask concerning the visitor's
identity. When assured by his sister that Santa had not arrived ahead
of time he settled down again to wait, as patiently as he could, for the
"grown-ups" to retire.

So he waited and waited. The clock struck ten and then eleven. Georgie
rose, tiptoed to his door and listened. There were no sounds except
those of the storm. Then, still on tiptoe, the boy crept along the hall
to the front stairs, down these stairs and into the living-room. The
fire in the "airtight" stove showed red behind the isinglass panes, and
the room was warm and comfortable.

Georgie did not hesitate; his plan was complete to the minutest details.
By the light from the stove he found his way to the sofa which stood
against the wall on the side of the room opposite the windows. There was
a heavy fringe on the sofa which hung almost to the floor. The youngster
lay flat upon the floor and crept under the fringe and beneath the sofa.
There he lay still. Aunt Thankful and Captain Obed and Imogene had said
there was a Santa Claus; the boy in South Middleboro had said there was
none; Georgie meant to settle the question for himself this very night.
This was