Roger considered. This man to man game had certain phraseological
conclusions.

"No case!" he said suddenly, nor would he alter his decision when the
Doctor protested against its severity.

"You had so awful many peoply sort of places to go," pointed out Roger,
and the Doctor laughed.

"And let you spend this first Christmas on your two legs in a _city_?"
he demanded. "Well, I guess not! No-sir-ee-bob! There!--the alder
berries have faded out and the garden's thick with twilight."

"And it's Christmas eve!" cried Roger, his black eyes shining with
delight.

"Speaking of Christmas," said the Doctor, sniffing luxuriously, "I feel
that I ought to slip out to the kitchen for a minute or so. I do smell
something tremendously Christmasy and spicy--"

Roger caught his breath. With a Christmas intrigue as surely in the air
as the smell of spice, here was dangerous ground.

"Aunt Ellen," he faltered, "Aunt Ellen said she couldn't pos'bly be
bothered with--with any men folks in the kitchen--not even me."

"Pooh!" rebelled the Doctor largely, "that's merely a ruse of hers to
protect the cookies. And what I'd like to know is just this--what's Aunt
Ellen doing in the kitchen anyway? Certainly old Annie's able to do the