A moment later the three shining-eyed Irish children burst into the room and the older girls could not have found little ones more willing to skip and dance about their tree, for how those small Mahoys did squeal and clap their hands and hop for joy!
“See ’ittle dollies way up top!” Baby Cola lisped as she tried to drag her pale, sad-eyed mother over toward the tree. The older girls looked at the little woman and their hearts ached for her, for well they knew that there could be no real happiness for her unless she could find her lost husband.
“Everybody be seated, quick!” Margaret called as the clock struck 7. “Santa will be coming now.”
Such a scramble as there was for chairs, and then, “Oh! Oh! See Santa!” Baby Cola and 5-year-old Dora cried in excited chorus. The dining-room had opened to admit someone dressed to represent the good old saint. Margaret and Virginia stared for a moment, uncomprehending, for this apparition was not of the build of either Slick Cy or Malcolm, both of whom were broad-shouldered young giants. The Santa Claus, however, evidently had been told what to do, for, after making a fine bow he straightway reached to the highest branch, and taking down the dollies, he called: “For Baby Cola.”
Right at that moment something surprising happened. A glad light brightened the face of the little woman, and, springing up, she ran with outstretched arms toward the supposed Santa Claus, who caught her in an embrace that told the tenderness of his love for her.
“It’s me Pat!”, the little woman sobbed. “Me Pat that I’ve wanted so.” Snatching off his disguise the happy Irishman gathered his little ones in his arms. A moment later Malcolm and Slick Cy appeared, and going to the amazed girls, the former said:
“Our Santa Claus is not much better at play-actin’ than is dear old Uncle Tex.”
“Of course not,” Virginia exclaimed, with tears in her eyes. “He couldn’t disguise his voice so that his loving little wife wouldn’t recognize it, but how did he come here? Where did you find him?”
The boys then told how they had found the prospector living alone in a cabin high on Second Peak, close to the Christmas tree.
“And think of it, sister,” Malcolm exclaimed excitedly. “He has truly found a paying mine, and if you and I will grubstake him, he’ll let us go shares and there’s no telling but that we may all be rich some day.”