“It’s like this,” explained Mr. Jeffert. “Lately, a number of my best evergreens have been stolen—cut down at night. The same thing happened last year, and the year before that.”
“You never reported it to the sheriff?” asked Grandfather Gordon, for this was the first he had heard of the matter.
“No, because I have no idea who is taking the trees. Not many have been stolen, but enough so I lose most of my profit. I’m tired of it.”
“Can’t say I wouldn’t feel the same,” admitted Grandfather Gordon.
“This year, I’m keeping watch,” Mr. Jeffert continued. “Always before, my trees have been chopped down just before Christmas. If I can catch the thief, I’ll turn him over to the sheriff.”
The man moved nearer, peering curiously at Jane and Connie. Now that they no longer were afraid of him, he looked quite friendly and nice. He was inclined to be fat and wore an odd red woolen cap. The long, white whiskers fell nearly to his middle.
“Why, you look like Santa Claus!” gasped Connie.
“I may look like the kindly old fellow, but I haven’t his benevolent disposition,” he chuckled. “At any rate, I don’t propose to give away any more of my evergreens to sneak thieves!”
Mr. Jeffert thanked Grandfather Gordon for bringing the groceries. It was unnecessary for the Brownies to help carry the sacks on to the house.
“I’ll take ’em when I go,” Mr. Jeffert said. “Right now I want to remain here and keep watch.”