"There, can you see him all right?"
"Yes, sir. And he can see me!" The thin little hand was held up,
and Laine felt the quiver that ran over the frail body. "He sees me!"
"Well, my man"--Santa Claus was noticing at last--"what is it that
you want?"
"A coat for mother. Black, please." Soft and eager the words came
quickly. "And a worsted skirt, and some shoes for Dick, and a muff
for Katie."
"Oh, I'm not bringing anything but toys this time. Only toys.
Quick, what are they?"
On his shoulders again Laine felt a quiver, this time of sudden
relaxation, and heard a sob that was quickly smothered. "Oh, I don't
need toys, and mother hasn't got a piece of coat."
Laine coughed and caught the eye of Santa Claus, and by telepathy
made the latter understand his questions must continue. Two minutes
and they were over, the child's name and address taken, his desires
made known, and as he put him down on the floor Laine took from the
trembling fingers the piece of paper which for hours had been tightly
held and put it in his pocket.
"All right, son." He slipped some money in his hand. "Run
down-stairs and get something to eat before you go home, and don't
worry about the things--they'll be there Christmas. Scoot!" And
with a pat Laine sent him off.
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