"Well, I should say so," said Santa Claus. "Nobody better. By the way, Billee, what does your mama call your papa? 'Billee,' like you?" he added.
"Oh, no, indeed," returned Little Billee. "She calls him papa, except once in a while when he's going away, and then she says, 'Good-by, Tom.'"
"Fine again!" said Santa Claus, blowing upon his fingers, for, now that the sun had completely disappeared over in the west, it was getting very cold. "Thomas Harrison, banker," he muttered to himself. "What with the telephone-book and the city directory, I guess we can find our way home with Little Billee."
"Do you think we can go now, Mr. Santa Claus?" asked Little Billee, for the cold was beginning to cut through his little coat, and the sandman had started to scatter the sleepy-seeds all around.
"Yes, sirree!" returned Santa Claus promptly. "Right away off now instantly at once! I'm afraid I can't get my reindeer here in time to take us up to the house, but we can go in the cars—hum! I don't know whether we can or not, come to think of it. Ah, do you happen to have ten cents in your pocket?" Santa added with an embarrassed air. "You see, I've left my pocketbook in the sleigh with my toy-pack; and, besides, mine is only toy-money, and they won't take that on the cars."
"I got twenty-fi' cents," said Little Billee proudly, as he dug his way down into his pocket and brought the shining silver piece to light. "You can have it, if you want it."
"Thank you," said Santa Claus, taking the proffered coin. "We'll start home right away; only come in here first, while I telephone to Santaville, telling the folks where I am."
He led the little fellow into a public telephone station, where he eagerly scanned the names in the book. At last it was found—"Thomas Harrison, seven-six-five-four Plaza." And then, in the seclusion of the telephone-booth, Santa Claus sent the gladdest of all Christmas messages over the wire to two distracted parents:
"I have found your boy wandering in the street. He is safe, and I will bring him home right away."