Jimsy broke the staring silence.
"Uncle Ab," he quivered, "ye never—ye never went an' done all that fur me!"
"I—I don't know," said Abner Sawyer, swallowing very hard. "I—I think I did."
"When," faltered Aunt Judith from the doorway, "did you—do it?"
"It must have been after midnight. I came in very quietly. The ride was long—I went to Matsville. You must have been in bed asleep—"
Jimsy embarked upon a handspring of celebration.
"Two trees!" he shouted, caution quite forgotten in his wild excitement, "two suits of clothes—two everything! Oh, my gosh, Specks ain't in it. I'm the Christmas kid!" and then in a panic he was on his feet again, his face hot and red. "Aunt Judith," he exclaimed, almost crying, "I'm awfully sorry—"
Aunt Judith's tremulous laugh seemed tears and silver.
"Never mind, dear. It's all right now. Abner," she swallowed bravely, "one of—one of Jimsy's Christmas trees is in the sewing-room. I—I'd like you to see it."