"Listen--!" she breathed.
Thankful listened.
"Why--why," she whispered, "there's somebody down in the livin'-room!
Who is it?"
"I don't know. There are more than one, for I heard them talking. Who
CAN it be?"
Thankful listened again.
"Where's Georgie?" she whispered, after a moment.
"In his room, I suppose. . . . What? You don't think--"
Thankful had tiptoed back to her own room and was returning with the
lamp. Together they entered Georgie's bed chamber. But bed and room were
empty. Georgie was not there.
CHAPTER XV
Georgie had gone to bed that Christmas Eve with a well-defined plan in
his small head. He knew what he intended doing and how he meant to do
it. The execution of this plan depended, first of all, upon his not
falling asleep, and, as he was much too excited to be in the least
sleepy, he found no great difficulty in carrying out this part of his
scheme.
He had heard the conversation accompanying Mr. Cobb's unexpected
entrance and had waited anxiously to ask concerning the visitor's
identity. When assured by his sister that Santa had not arrived ahead
of time he settled down again to wait, as patiently as he could, for the
"grown-ups" to retire.
So he waited and waited. The clock struck ten and then eleven. Georgie
rose, tiptoed to his door and listened. There were no sounds except
those of the storm. Then, still on tiptoe, the boy crept along the hall
to the front stairs, down these stairs and into the living-room.
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