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Holiday cheerfully. "I have put my foot in it. And I suppose Freddie and Euphemia will carry on and raise Cain when they find there's no Santy Claus in Painsville?" "Don't you fret, Alice," said Mr. Holiday. "When I get people in trouble I get 'em out. Your Uncle Silas is a friend of mine he has to be. I'm going to send him a telegram." He smiled, and chucked her under the chin.
The wife says that's the thing to do go right to the boil of trouble and prick it." "What did your wife do while you were away?" asked Mr. Holiday delicately. "She did odd jobs, and brought the twins up healthy." "I remember the Painsville business," said Mr. Holiday, "because I own stock in that bank. You only took about two hundred dollars." "That was all I needed," said the man.
And then there were all the wonderful toys and things for Alice, and Freddie, and Euphemia, and he was going to present them with the black trunk, too, so that they could take their gifts off the train when it eventually got to Painsville. And Mr.
"What did you use to do for a living before?" he asked. "I was teller in a bank." "And what happened?" "Then," said the man, "the missus had twins, followed by typhoid fever." His admissions came with hopeless frankness. "And I couldn't pay for all that luxury. So I stole." "What bank were you teller in?" "The Painsville Bank Painsville. I'm going to them now to to see if they won't let up.
Freddie, Alice, and Euphemia Caldwell, reading from left to right, were consigned in the care of the conductor to Silas Caldwell, Painsville, Ohio. Alice had her arms around Freddie and Euphemia, and her pretty head was bent first to one and then to the other. Mr. Holiday seated himself gently behind the trio, and listened for some time.
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