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“I am afraid we can’t manage the Christmas tree,” said Henry, “but we
can have everything else.”

“Do you mean Santy?”

“Santy too,” answered the boy. “First of all, we will get something to
eat.”

“We haven’t had anything since morning,” said the girl. Henry divided
the sandwiches into three portions. As it happened, there were three
hard-boiled eggs. He gave one portion to each of his guests.

“You haven’t left any for yourself,” said Mary.

“I ate before I looked for you,” answered Henry, although the one
sandwich had by no means satisfied his hunger.

“My, but this is good!” said George.

“Our mother is dead,” said Mary Wright after a pause, “and our father is
awful poor. He has taken out a homestead and we are trying to live on it
until he gets it proved up. We have had a very hard time since mother
died.”

“Yes, I know,” said Henry, gravely; “my mother died, too.”

“I wonder what time it is?” asked the girl at last.

Henry pulled out his watch. “It is after six o’clock,” he said.

“Say,” broke in George, “that’s a funny kind of a uniform you’ve got
on.”

“It is a Boy Scout uniform.”

“Oh, is it?” exclaimed George. “I never saw one before. I wish I could
be a Scout!”

“Maybe you can,” answered Henry. “I am going to organize a troop when I
get to Kiowa. But now I’m going to fix beds for you. Of course we are
all sleepy after such a hard day.”

He had seen the trainmen lift up the bottoms of the seats and lay them
lengthwise of the car. He did this, and soon made four fairly
comfortable beds. The two nearest the stove he gave to the boys. He
indicated the next one was for Mary, and the one further down toward the
middle of the car was for himself.

“You can all go to bed right away,” he said when he had made his
preparations. The two boys decided to accept this advice. Mary said she
would stay up a little longer and talk with Henry.

“You can’t undress,” she said to the two boys. “You’ll have to sleep as
you are.” She sat down in one of the car seats; Philip knelt down at one
knee and George at the other. The girl, who was barely fifteen had
already taken her mother’s place. She laid her hand on each bent head
and listened while one after the other the boys said their prayers. She
kissed them good-night, saw them comfortably laid out on the big
cushions with their overcoats for pillows and turned away.

“Say,” began Philip, “you forgot something, Mary.”

“What have I forgotten, dear?”

“Why, it’s Christmas Eve and we must hang up our stockings.”

Mary threw up her hands. “I am afraid this is too far away for Santa
Claus. He won’t know that we are out here,” she said.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Henry, thinking rapidly, “let them hang them
up.”

Mary looked at him in surprise. “They haven’t any to hang up,” she said.
“We can’t take those they’re wearing.”

“You should have thought of that,” wailed Philip, “before you brought us
here.”

“I have some extra ones in my bag,” said Henry. “We will hang them up.”

He opened the bag and brought out three stockings, one for each of his
guests. He fastened them to the baggage racks above the seats and
watched the two boys contentedly close their eyes and go to sleep.

“They will be awfully disappointed when they wake up in the morning and
do not find anything in them,” said Mary.

“They’re going to find something in them,” said Henry confidently.

He went to the end of the car, opened his trunk and lifted out various
packages which had been designed for him. Of course he was going on
sixteen, but there were some things that would do for Philip and plenty
of things for George and some good books that he had selected himself
that would do for Mary. Then there were candy and nuts and cakes and
oranges galore. Mary was even more excited than he was as they filled
the boys’ stockings and arranged things that were too big to go in them.