“N-n-u-u-u!” objected Ruffle in a deep displeased tone.
“So you can say ‘no.’ Well, it is ‘yes’ you should say. Let me tell you it is not about Santa Claus, but about Ruffle Claws we should be talking. You have a fine sharp assortment.” Ruffle had threateningly spread his claws but had refrained from using them. “You are more gentle than I should be if some tall, wide person had the boldness to swing me up off my feet.” Leila willingly released the big, handsome gray and white puss.
Ruffle immediately sidled over to Miss Susanna, waving his plumy tail. He began a slow walk around her chair, keeping his luminous gray-green eyes fastened persistently upon her. Presently deciding that his mute plea was in vain he hopped up into her lap and settled himself upon it.
“Here comes General. Look out, Miss Susanna. He is more dangerous than Ruffle. He would as soon tip you out of that chair as not.” Marjorie sent out this timely warning.
“Oh, I heard you.” Mr. Dean had stepped briefly into the living room on his way to the street. “I can’t stop to assert myself. Tomorrow I’ll spend a Merry Christmas dumping usurpers out of my chair. Anyone found sitting in it will be eligible to dumping. All persons thus dumped must pick themselves up without the slightest assistance from me.”
“Your hear that, Ruffle?” Robin Page laughingly reached forward and gently tweaked one of Ruffle’s white whiskers.
“Tomorrow never comes,” Marjorie said teasingly. “But, here’s an unofficial order for you, General Dean;” she pointed a forceful finger at her father. “Pick up your detachment as soon as you can and hike for—you know where,” she added with mischievous lights dancing in her brown eyes.
“Yes, Lieutenant,” Mr. Dean saluted. “Never give your superior officer orders. Under the circumstances, however, I will overlook your lack of proper military respect.”
“Thank you, General.” Marjorie saluted with a great show of respect. Her parting injunction to her superior officer, delivered in the next breath was deplorably lacking in that particular military requisite. “You’d better overlook it and obey my order,” she called after him as he left the room, laughing.
“Something is going on here besides a possible visit from Saint Nick,” asserted Vera positively. “The air of mystery in this barrack has been growing ever since dinner. Why did Captain disappear so suddenly, right after dinner, without a word to anyone? And Delia went with her. They slid out the front door in such a rush!”