Chapter XXVII: What Happened on Christmas Eve

As the evening set in Dick felt his gloomy fears increase rather than diminish. It was strange, too, because as a general thing the boy had always been of a cheery disposition, and able to stand up under all manner of ordinary troubles.

He was not thinking of himself at all. What sacrifices the new plan he had in mind entailed did not count in the least. It was mother, and dear old grandpop, Dick was so anxious about. He knew how in times past they had frequently been forced to scrimp and save in order to enjoy a few things they craved; and now it would be harder than ever to make ends meet.

Still, Dick found that after supper had been dispatched he was feeling in a better humor. Perhaps the meal had something to do with this; then again the fact that it was Christmas Eve was to be considered, for after all Dick was a lad whose spirits were buoyant.

Perhaps, too, the way in which Uncle Silas tried to make them forget the new trouble may have had something to do with the change in his feelings. Indeed, never had the wanderer shown himself in such a happy mood. It seemed as though he must be exerting himself to the utmost with the idea of making the others forget.

The stories he told of his life in the frozen North, where men hunted for the hidden gold amidst glaciers and snowbanks, were full of rollicking humor. He had dear old grandpop laughing heartily at his comical descriptions; and Dick confessed that having Uncle Silas there at such a time of distress was as good as a tonic.

A knock at the door came about eight o’clock. Dick went to see who was there. As a rule, he would have expected to find one of his chums, or a neighbor; but tonight he felt nervous, and half anticipated discovering an unwelcome visitor in the shape of some officer, who would tell them their home was to be attached for debt.

“Good evening to ye, Dick,” said a voice. “Mr. Nocker he says I am to give ye this same package, which is from his daughter, and little Billy.”

“Oh! is it you, Pat?” remarked Dick, considerably relieved. “All right, I’ll take it in; and be sure to tell them all we send them a lot of thanks for remembering us, and hope they’ll have a real Merry Christmas.”

It was quite a package, and Dick laughed as he placed it on the table.

“To think of them remembering the Horners at Christmas,” he remarked, as she stared at the package. “I guess after all it isn’t going to be such a dull time for some of us. Shall I open it now, Mother, or leave it till the morning?”

“Suit yourself, Son,” she told him. “Many people give their gifts the night before Christmas; and perhaps you’ll sleep better if you see what it contains now.”

“Well, I believe I’ll just have to do it,” said Dick, with which he soon whipped the heavy cord off the package.

“Looks like a new suit of clothes for somebody!” chuckled Uncle Silas.

Dick snatched up the coat, and examined it. A small tag bore some writing, and he saw that it was a pretty card decorated with red Christmas flowers, and bearing a few words which he read aloud:

“_To Dick, from little Billy, wishing him the happiest Christmas of
his whole life!_”

“Oh! but ought I take such a thing from them, when Mr. Nocker is the one who will have to pay the bill?” said Dick, wonderingly.

“Why not?” demanded Uncle Silas, promptly. “If he sent you a dozen such presents he could never begin to pay back the debt he owes you. Didn’t you plan the scheme that gave him the treasures he now has in his gloomy old mansion? And only for your bravery and quick action might he not have lost them both in that fire? Don’t you hesitate for a minute, Dick, to accept this little gift.”

“But here’s something more, and for you, Mother!” exclaimed the boy, excitedly.

It proved to be a nice warm fleecy worsted shawl for her shoulders. And a third package turned out to be a delightful smoking jacket for the old veteran, in which he would find great joy and comfort as he sat by the open fire winter days.

All of them were delighted with their gifts. Uncle Silas pretended to be quite disappointed because he too had not been remembered.

“Seems like I’m the only one left out in the cold,” he laughed, merrily. “But then I’m a newcomer here, and haven’t any right to expect much. Perhaps if I hung up my stocking tonight, like we used to do when we were youngsters, Polly, old Santa Claus might take a notion to slip just a _little_ remembrance in the same. Now, just for luck, let’s all do it. It brings back happy days to even speak of such a thing. And for once let’s forget trouble as though we were children again.”

His sister smiled, a little sadly it must be confessed.

“If it will please you, Silas,” she told him, “we will agree; though no one must expect much. Our intentions are tremendous, but sad to say we are hampered by conditions that tie our hands. But even a little gift may carry worlds of love with it.”

Dick had provided a small tree, and they all sat up late decorating it. Even old grandpop insisted on tying a few baubles to the branches, in memory of the days when he used to do the same for the children who were now gone.

Little Susie had of course been put to bed before this, for the tree was mainly intended for her delight; though the others found more or less pleasure in its decoration.

And there were five stockings hung up alongside the fireplace; Susie had insisted on fastening one borrowed from her mother, since she naively remarked that her own might be too small for what the good fairies meant to bring her, and she would not want to miss anything for lack of room.

After Dick went to his little room and retired, he lay there a long time, utterly unable to lose himself in sleep. The blow that had fallen that afternoon had given him a shock, and try as he would he could not get it out of his mind.

Lying there he could see through his open door the flickering of the firelight in the living-room beyond, where the little Christmas tree stood in all its brave finery. When the blaze came up he could even count the five stockings hanging there, each with something in it, for they had contrived to do this before separating for the night.

Dick sighed many times. He somehow was thinking of that golden prize which Mr. Holwell had offered for the best farce, and which would be awarded a few nights after Christmas. If only he had won that there were so many things he had planned to buy with the twenty-five dollars that would have made the Great Day seem so much more joyful.

Dick, lying there, suddenly became aware of the fact that some one was moving in the other room. He even half raised his head to look, and when the fire picked up a little, discovered that it was Uncle Silas.

“To be sure,” Dick told himself, “I remember now that he didn’t think to put anything in the stockings when we turned in, and he’s meaning to do that now. But the poor old chap has mighty little to spare. Still, half a dollar given in the right spirit would mean as much as a thousand times the same from a rich man.”

Dick felt enough curiosity to watch Uncle Silas. He saw the wanderer fumbling with the different stockings. He even had the assurance to pull out what they contained and glance at the small offerings. When Dick saw that he seemed to be moved by some emotion, he himself felt a little annoyed.

“I hope now he isn’t laughing at what we’ve given him,” he muttered half under his breath. “He’s certainly as full of curiosity as a youngster waking up in the moonlight, and creeping out of bed to see what Santa has left for him; and that’s what I did once myself. There, he’s satisfied now, anyway, and is trotting off to his cot again.”

After that Dick again set himself the task of trying to get to sleep, though he found it the hardest kind of work. Even this latest strange action on the part of Uncle Silas worried him. He remembered all that Leslie had ever said about the wanderer. Could it be possible that Uncle Silas _was_ an impostor; or that he had actually planned to come and settle down on his poor sister, to be taken care of for the balance of his natural life?

“Oh! shucks! forget all that stuff, can’t you?” Dick scolded himself as he turned once more with his back to the open door, so as to shut out the flickering firelight. “Uncle Silas is all right, and you know it. He’s only a little queer in the upper story. You know he told how he was struck on the head once by a falling rock, and nearly killed. Now go to sleep, so you’ll feel fresh when morning comes.”

Nevertheless, it must have been close on to midnight when Dick finally managed to drop off. What his dreams were no one ever knew, but at least he did sleep until the sun was above the horizon on that bright Christmas morning, which was something unusual for him, as he always attended to the chores promptly in order to save the little mother steps.

So Dick hastily dressed, his mind beginning to fill once more with a confusion of anxieties and hopes, as all that had taken place on the previous afternoon and evening trooped through his active brain.

“Tomorrow I’ll begin to look for a situation,” he was saying as he finished his dressing. “Perhaps better days will be coming along later on, when I can complete my education. I can hear mother in the kitchen; perhaps she may need something, so I’ll find out.”

“Nothing to be done, Son,” Mrs. Horner announced, after kissing him warmly, and returning his greeting of a Merry Christmas. “But I hear some one knocking at the front door, so go and answer, for I think I saw Leslie pass the kitchen window.”