The mirror., 1923-12-20
DICKIE'S SANTA CLAUS
CONTINUED from page I

tenance he turned about and paced sew
eral steps to and fro in great agitation,
wringing his hands with violent emotion.
"Mr. Austin!" cried Lewis. "Can help
you in any way1"
The banker stopped suddenly, and in
shaky, undecided voice, gasped-"T don't
know-Lewis. Yesl-yes!-I may need
you! - Kidnappers, perhaps! = my
God!-The police!" walled Austin, his
eyes filled with terror.
"Telephone" cried Lewis, snatching up
the instrument and thrusting it into the
bankers hands.
"Police Station-quick!" shouted Austin
into the transmitter. In moment the
connection was made, and Austin poured
the alarming news into the telephone
When he had finished giving his sons de-
scription to the chief, the banker and
Lewis whirled excitedly and rushed out
of the bank to the attorneys waiting car.
AT the central station, all was hustle
and excitement for a brief moment, as
detectives were hurriedly dispatched upon
the case and general alarm was broad
casted to sub-stations and patrolmen about
the city.
The Austin home was in the throes of
apprehension, terror and anguish, when
the banker and his attorney arrived. Ser
wants rushed to and fro in confusion
doing nothing. Mrs. Austin was upon the
verge of notwithstanding, moaning wall
ing, and praying in turns. A detective
arrived-asking minute details in haste,
making notes in his book, and finishing
by assuring the distracted parents that
Everything possible was being done, and
that it was but matter of few hours
at most when the lad would be found and
returned safe and WE'LL"
Farmer Stubs lived in a low-built,
rambling sort of house situated in mar
row valley some distance off the county
road and about four miles from the city.
He and his wife were elderly people, and
possessed large family, most of the
children still in their early "teens." The
dwelling, like the rest of the buildings
was old, and its architecture gave evidence
of many additions of various sizes, added
whenever crops were good and the exigen-
cies of growing family demanded. The
place was heavily mortgaged, as most
farms are, and the machinery was old and
needed replacement. Lean years and poor
prices had done their full share to keep
the family in financial straits; and, but
few days previously, Stubbs had received
notice from the banks attorney, saying
that with the coming new year other ar
rangements must be made-the mortgage
would not be renewed. The farmer and
his wife were heavy of heart in conse-
quence, but bore up bravely, and were
now planning to observe their last Christ
mas in the old home with a cheerful
dinner repast-presents, were beyond their
means.
The older boys were hauling hogs,
chickens and Christmas trees to market,
so as to raise money with which to leave
and locate upon a rented farm elsewhere.
Mrs. Stubbs was busy dressing chickens
to roast, making mince pies, great kettle
of cranberry sauce, and other good things
to eat. Farmer Stubbs sat near the kitchen
stove smoking a long, willow-stemmed,
corncob pipe; polishing a nickel upon his
knee; and occasionally stroking his long,
grey beard or stuAing another stick into
the stove. Looking out of the window, he
remarked, slowly, in a quaint drawl,
"Mary-I reckon were in for a blizzard.
It's growing colder, and the winds begin
ming to blow pretty lively. Shows falling
pretty fast now too"
His wife glanced up anxiously. "Wish
Ted and Joe would hurry back home-it's
getting dark. And Mercy Me!-Ida and