"Hum!" said the Doctor.

"Man to man, now!" urged Roger suddenly.

This was the accepted key to a confessional ceremony which required much
politeness and ruthless honesty.

"Well, Mr. Hildreth," began the Doctor formally.

Roger's face fell.

"I'm your adopted son," he hinted, "and you said that made my name same
as yours."

"Mr. Leslie!" corrected the Doctor, and Roger glowed.

"Well, Mr. Leslie," went on the Doctor thoughtfully, "I'm chuck full of
grievances. There's the rheumatism in my leg, for instance. That's no
sort of thing to have at Christmas."

"But that's better," said Roger. "You said so this morning. I 'spect you
been thinkin' too much about it like you said I did when my leg was
stiff."

"Ahem! And I did hope somebody would come home for Christmas. I like a
house full of romping youngsters--"

Roger pointed an accusing finger.