under one arm and the plum-blossom vase under the other, he sprinted for
the highway, stumbling over shrubbery, bumping into a stone bench that all
but caused disaster, and finally reached the road on which he continued
his flight toward New Haven, followed by cries in many keys and a
fusillade of pistol shots.

Arriving presently at a hamlet, where he paused for breath in the rear of
a country store, he found a basket and a quantity of paper in which he
carefully packed his loot. Over the top he spread some faded lettuce
leaves and discarded carnations which communicated something of a blithe
holiday air to his encumbrance. Elsewhere he found a bicycle under a shed,
and while cycling over a snowy road in the dark, hampered by a basket
containing pottery representative of the highest genius of the Orient, was
not without its difficulties and dangers, The Hopper made rapid progress.

Halfway through New Haven he approached two policemen and slowed down to
allay suspicion.

"Merry Chris'mas!" he called as he passed them and increased his weight
upon the pedals.

The officers of the law, cheered as by a greeting from Santa Claus
himself, responded with an equally hearty Merry Christmas.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]