"I--I can't do it!" he groaned. "I've GOT to stay here! I've GOT to!"

Thankful, exerting all her strength, closed the door and locked it.

"Indeed you've got to," she declared. "Now go out into the kitchen and set by the stove while I heat a kettle and make you some ginger tea or somethin'."

Solomon hesitated.

"He must, Aunt Thankful," urged Emily; "he really must."

The visitor turned to stare at her.

"Who are you?" he demanded, ungraciously. Then, as another chill racked him from head to foot, he added: "I don't care. Take me somewheres and give me somethin'--ginger tea or--or kerosene or anything else, so it's hot. I--I'm--sho--oo--ook all to--pi--ic--ces."

They led him to the kitchen, where Thankful prepared the ginger tea.

During its preparation she managed to inform Emily concerning the ident.i.ty of their unexpected lodger. Solomon, introduced to Miss Howes, merely grunted and admitted that he had "heard tell" of her. His manner might have led a disinterested person to infer that what he had heard was not flattering. He drank his tea, and as he grew warmer inside and out his behavior became more natural, which does not mean that it was either gracious or grateful.

At length he asked what time it was. Thankful told him.

"I think you'd better be gettin' to bed, Solomon," she suggested.

"I'll hunt up one of Mr. Caleb Hammond's nightshirts, and while you're sleepin' your wet clothes can be dryin' here by the cookstove."

Solomon grunted, but he was, apparently, willing to retire. Then came the question as to where he should sleep. Emily offered a suggestion.

"Why don't you put him in the back room, Auntie," she said. "The one Miss Timpson used to have. That isn't occupied now and the bed is ready."

Thankful hesitated. "I don't know's he'd better have that room, Emily,"

she said.

"Why not? I'm sure it's a very nice room."

"Yes, I know it is, but--"

"But what?"

Mr. Cobb had a remark to make.

"Well, come on, come on," he said, testily. "Put me somewheres and do it quick. Long's I've GOT to sleep in this house I might's well be doin'

it. Where is this room you're talkin' about? Let's see it."

Emily took the lamp and led the way up the back stairs. Solomon followed her and Thankful brought up the rear. She felt a curious hesitancy in putting even her disagreeable relative in that room on this night.

Around the gables and upon the roof the storm whined and roared as it had the night when she first explored that upper floor. And she remembered, now, that it had stormed, though not as hard, the night when Miss Timpson received her "warning." If there were such things as ghosts, and if the little back bedroom WAS haunted, a night like this was the time for spectral visitations. She had half a mind to give Mr.

Cobb another room.

But, before she could decide what to do, before the struggle between her common-sense and what she knew were silly forebodings was at an end, the question was decided for her. Solomon had entered the large room and expressed his approval of it.

"This'll do first rate," he said. "Why didn't you want to put me in here? Suppose you thought 'twas too good for me, eh? Well, it might be for some folks, but not for me. What's that, a closet?"

He was pointing to the closed door of the little room, the one which Miss Timpson had intended using as a study. Thankful had, after her last night of fruitless spook hunting, closed the door and locked it.

"What's this door locked for?" asked Mr. Cobb, who had walked over and was trying the k.n.o.b.

"Oh, nothing; it's just another empty room, that's all. There's nothin'

in it."

"Humph! Is that so? What do you lock up a room with nothin' in it for?"

He turned the key and flung the door open. "Ugh!" he grunted, in evident disappointment. "'Tis empty, ain't it? Well, good night."

Emily, whose face expressed a decided opinion concerning the visitor, walked out into the hall. Thankful remained.

"Solomon," she said, in a whisper, "tell me. Have you made up your mind about that mortgage?"

"Um? No, I ain't. Part of what I came over here today for was to find out a little more about this property and about Holliday Kendrick's offer for it. I may have a talk with him afore I decide about renewin'

that mortgage. It looks to me as if 'twould be pretty good business to d.i.c.ker with him. He's got money, and if I can get some of it, so much the better for me."

"Solomon, you don't mean--"

"I don't know what I mean yet, I tell ye. But I do tell you this: I'm a business man and I know the value of money. I worked hard for what I got; 'twa'n't left me by n.o.body, like some folks's I hear of. Don't ask me no more questions. I'll see old Kendrick tomorrow, maybe; he's expected down."

"He is? Mr. Holliday Kendrick? How do you know?"

"I know 'cause I found out, same as I usually find out things. Chris Badger got a telegram through his office from Holliday to John Kendrick sayin' he'd come on the noon train."

"But why should he come? And on Christmas day?"

"I don't know. Probably he ain't so silly about Christmas as the average run of idiots. He's a business man, too. There! Good night, good night.

Leave me alone so's I can say my prayers and turn in. I'm pretty nigh beat out."

"And you won't tell me about that mortgage?"

"No. I'll tell you when my mind's made up; that ain't yet."

Thankful turned to go. At the threshold she spoke once more.

"I wonder what you say in those prayers of yours, Solomon," she observed. "I should imagine the Lord might find 'em interestin'."

"I'm glad I said it, Emily," she told her cousin, who was awaiting her in her bedroom. "I presume likely it'll do more harm than good, but it did ME good while I was sayin' it. The mean, stingy old hypocrite! Now let's go downstairs and fill Georgie's stockin'."

But that ceremony, it appeared, must be deferred. Georgie was still wide-awake. He called to Emily to ask if the man who had come was Santa Claus.

"The little rascal," chuckled Thankful. "Well," with a sigh, "he'll never make a worse guess if he lives to be as old as Methuselah's grandmarm. Emily, you sneak down and fetch the stockin' and the presents up here to my room. We'll do the fillin' here and hang up the stockin'

in the mornin' afore he gets up."

While they were filling the stocking and tying the packages containing gifts too bulky to be put in it Miss Howes cross-questioned her cousin.

Emily had been most unfavorably impressed with Mr. Cobb during this, her first, meeting with him, and her suspicions concerning Thankful's financial affairs, already aroused by the lady's reticence, were now active. She questioned and, after a time, Thankful told her, first a little and then all the truth.

"I didn't mean to tell you, Emily," she said, tearfully. "I didn't mean to tell a soul, but I--I just couldn't keep it to myself any longer. If he doesn't renew that mortgage--and goodness knows what he'll do after he talks with Mr. Holliday Kendrick--I--I don't see how I can help losin' everything. It's either that or sell out, and I don't want to sell--Oh, I don't! I know I can make a go of this place of mine if I have another year of it. I KNOW I can."

Emily was very much excited and fiercely indignant.