cleared his throat.

"And so," he said slowly, "you wanted to be square. That's the finest
thing I've heard this Christmas day. Wanted to be square. Well, well!"
His hand was on Jim's shoulder now. "Jim, I wonder if you could come
back to me next Christmas and tell me you'd been absolutely straight--"

"Here!" said Jim in a choking whisper, his eyes blazing through his
tears, "again--for _Christmas_!"

Somewhere on a snowy page a Christmas angel wrote: "One boy saved by the
spirit of a country Christmas!"

"Here," repeated the Doctor, "again--for Christmas." He opened the
door. "Run along, now, Jim," he said kindly, "or the boys will miss
you."

Jim's final words were very queer.

"Doctor John," he blurted, "I--I'm a goin' to send poor little Muggs."

The Doctor was devoutly hoping that Muggs had never been in jail for
stealing food or drums, when Muggs himself appeared clinging desperately
to the hand of Mike. He seemed on the verge of a lachrymose explosion.

Mike's face was very red but it was also very hopeful.

"Jim said to tell ye," he mumbled. "She ain't never had no Christmas an'
the minister he said the order was all boys an'--an' she cried, so Mom
said bring her anyway in my ol' suit--you'd never know,