"I live not far from here on the avenue. Three weeks ago I lost a little
dog that I valued very much I have had all the city searched since then,
in vain. To-day I met the boy who has just left us. He informed me that
three weeks ago he found a dog, which is at present in the possession of
your son. I wonder--is it not just possible that this dog may be mine?"
Mrs. Bailey smiled. "I guess not, Mr. Carter. The dog Jimmy found hadn't
come off the avenue--not from the look of him. You know there's hundreds
and hundreds of dogs without homes, sir. But I will say for this one, he
has a kind of a way with him."
"Hark!" said Mr. Carter.
There was a rustling and a snuffing at the door at the far end of the
room, a quick scratching of feet. Then:
"Woof! woof! woof!" sharp and clear came happy impatient little barks.
The philanthropist's eyes brightened. "Yes," he said, "that is the dog."
"I doubt if it can be, sir," said Mrs. Bailey, deprecatingly.
"Open the door, please," commanded the philanthropist, "and let us
see." Mrs. Bailey complied. There was a quick jump, a tumbling rush,
and Skiddles, the lost Skiddles, was in the philanthropist's arms. Mrs.
Bailey shut the door with a troubled face.
"I see it's your dog, sir," she said, "but I hope you won't be thinking
that Jimmy or I--"
"Madam," interrupted Mr. Carter, "I could not be so foolish. On the
contrary, I owe you a thousand thanks."
Mrs. Bailey looked more cheerful. "Poor little Billy!" she said. "It'll
come hard on him, losing Pete just at Christmas time. But the boys are
so good to him, I dare say he'll forget it."
"Who are these boys?" inquired the philanthropist. "Isn't their
action--somewhat unusual?"
"It's Miss Gray's club at the settlement, sir," explained Mrs. Bailey.
"Every Christmas they do this for somebody. It's not charity; Billy and
I don't need charity, or take it. It's just friendliness. They're good
boys."
"I see," said the philanthropist. He was still wondering about it,
though, when the door opened again, and Jimmy thrust out a face shining
with anticipation.
"All ready, mister!" he said. "Bill's waitin' for you!"
"Jimmy," began Mrs. Bailey, about to explain, "the gentleman--"
But the philanthropist held up his hand, interrupting her. "You'll let
me see your son, Mrs. Bailey?" he asked, gently.
"Why, certainly, sir."
Mr. Carter put Skiddles down and walked slowly into the inner room.
The bed stood with its side toward him. On it lay a small boy of seven,
rigid of body, but with his arms free and his face lighted with joy.
"Hello, Santa Claus!" he piped, in a voice shrill with excitement.
"Hello, Bill!" answered the philanthropist, sedately.
The boy turned his eyes on Jimmy.
"He knows my name," he said, with glee.
"He knows everybody's name," said Jimmy. "Now you tell him what you
want, Bill, and he'll bring it to-morrow.
"How would you like," said the philanthropist, reflectively, "an--an--"
he hesitated, it seemed so incongruous with that stiff figure on the
bed--"an airgun?"
"I guess yes," said Bill, happily.
"And a train of cars," broke in the impatient Jimmy, "that goes like
sixty when you wind her?"
"Hi!" said Bill.
The philanthropist solemnly made notes of this.
"How about," he remarked, inquiringly, "a tree?"
"Honest?" said Bill.
"I think it can be managed," said Santa Claus. He advanced to the
bedside.
"I'm glad to have seen you, Bill. You know how busy I am, but I hope--I
hope to see you again."
"Not till next year, of course," warned Jimmy.
"Not till then, of course," assented Santa Claus. "And now, good-bye."
"You forgot to ask him if he'd been a good boy," suggested Jimmy.
"I have," said Bill. "I've been fine. You ask mother."
"She gives you--she gives you both a high character," said Santa Claus.
"Good-bye again," and so saying he withdrew. Skiddles followed him out.
The philanthropist closed the door of the bedroom, and then turned to
Mrs. Bailey.
She was regarding him with awestruck eyes.
"Oh, sir," she said, "I know now who you are--the Mr. Carter that gives
so much away to people!"
The philanthropist nodded, deprecatingly.
"Just so, Mrs. Bailey," he said. "And there is one gift--or loan
rather--which I should like to make to you. I should like to leave the
little dog with you till after the holidays. I'm afraid I'll have to
claim him then; but if you'll keep him till after Christmas--and let me
find, perhaps, another dog for Billy--I shall be much obliged."
Again the door of the bedroom opened, and Jimmy emerged quietly.
"Bill wants the pup," he explained.
"Pete! Pete!" came the piping but happy voice from the inner room.
Skiddles hesitated. Mr. Carter made no sign.
"Pete! Pete!" shrilled the voice again.
Slowly, very slowly, Skiddles turned and went back into the bedroom.
"You see," said Mr. Carter, smiling, "he won't be too unhappy away from
me, Mrs. Bailey."
On his way home the philanthropist saw even more evidences of Christmas
gaiety along the streets than before. He stepped out briskly, in spite
of his sixty-eight years; he even hummed a little tune.
When he reached the house on the avenue he found his secretary still at
work.
"Oh, by the way, Mr. Mathews," he said, "did you send that letter to the
woman, saying I never paid attention to personal appeals? No? Then write
her, please, enclosing my check for two hundred dollars, and wish her a
very Merry Christmas in my name, will you? And hereafter will you
always let me see such letters as that one--of course after careful
investigation? I fancy perhaps I may have been too rigid in the past."
"Certainly, sir," answered the bewildered secretary. He began fumbling
excitedly for his note-book.
"I found the little dog," continued the philanthropist. "You will be
glad to know that."
"You have found him?" cried the secretary. "Have you got him back, Mr.
Carter? Where was he?"
"He was--detained--on Oak Street, I believe," said the philanthropist.
"No, I have not got him back yet. I have left him with a young boy till
after the holidays."
He settled himself to his papers, for philanthropists must toil even
on the twenty-fourth of December, but the secretary shook his head in a
daze. "I wonder what's happened?" he said to himself.