No one who came to the ranch suspected that Jack’s heart was starved for home ties, and that he longed for some one to love and to work for. For years he had had an imaginary family. He took almost as much pleasure in the growth and development of his imaginary children as he would have taken had they been real. Of course he could not tell his friends about his pretense; but when he went to town he spoke to strangers of his “folks,” and talked about them just as if he had actually had a family.
This was the first time he had ever been in Green River when the holidays were so near. The windows of the stores were filled with toys and candies. As he drove up the street his heart was sad; there were so many things that he would have liked to buy if he had only had some one to give them to.
When he drove into the livery barn, the proprietor, to whom he had talked on his other visits, called out, “Hello, Nevin! How are you? How are the little girls and their ma? In town to interview Santa Claus, I suppose?”
Jack walked up the street, looking at the pretty things, and almost hating other men who had “folks” to buy for. Suddenly he remembered what Hall, the liveryman, had said. After all, why should he not do it? Whose business was it, anyway, if he chose to buy dolls, toys, and trinkets? As he thought over the idea his recklessness grew. The boys might laugh and joke, he realized, but the chance that they would find out seemed small.
That night he confided in his landlady; and his enthusiasm for his family was so contagious that she forgot the high price of meat.
“I suppose your little girls sent you loaded with a list?” she said.
Jack searched his pockets, but failed to find any list.
“Well, now, that’s too bad,” he said, with such evident concern that the landlady was entirely deceived.
“Now don’t you worry,” she said. “My Emma works at Little Pete’s. You can get more for your money in there than you can at any other store in town. And Emma will help you make a good selection.”
The next morning the whim was still upon Jack Nevin. He went to Little Pete’s, and passed there the happiest three hours of his life, choosing and buying the things that he would have liked to put into little stockings.