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He just hurried to the window, climbed up on the seat, then on the sill, and dropped on the soft grass below, and ran up the road towards home, just as fast as he could travel. He hadn't gone far when he heard someone calling, "Hey, Sonny!" He turned with relief. There was the Toyman, his long legs fast catching up with the runaway. And the same old smile was on the Toyman's face.
So the birthday party really lasted long after the seven candles had gone out, and the cake had gone, too, every crumb. Uncle Roger lived in town, quite a distance from the home of the Three Happy Children. When they walked, Marmaduke's short legs took one whole hour to reach it; Jehosophat's, forty-five minutes; though the Toyman's long shanks could cover the ground in fifteen.
On the Toyman's face was a funny look as he answered: "No, little feller, I never had any little boys." Marmaduke reached up his hand and patted the Toyman's rough, kind face. "Don't worry, Toyman," he said, "I'll be your little boy."
But his face had lost a little flesh, and it wasn't all red as you see in the pictures, but brown and red, like like the Toyman's; and his eyes didn't pop out of his head either, but were just like ordinary people's eyes, only kinder, like the Toyman's, and these, the children said, were the kindest in the world.
So back and forth the procession of presents passed, a pipe for Father, and one for the Toyman, who wasn't there to get it, a football for Marmaduke, a pair of skates for Jehosophat, and oh, so many things! Then Marmaduke heard a whisper in his ear. He started, for the voice sounded like the Toyman's, but it couldn't have been, for the Toyman was still nowhere to be seen.
Often he had run after Echo, but he never could catch up with her, nor even see a glimpse of her silver and green dress. She always played Hide-and-Seek with him, and he was always "it." However, he didn't worry long about friend Echo this morning. He was thinking of the Toyman. For the Toyman's face had looked worried far away and sad. It had looked somehow as Echo's voice always sounded.
He must have been seeing things in the flames, for he kept looking, looking all the time. He was all alone, for Father and Mother Green had gone to town to see a fine wedding. It was not often that they stayed out so late, but this was a grand event. And they knew the three happy children would be safe in the Toyman's care. They were all in the next room.
When he reached the ground Jehosophat, Marmaduke and Hepzebiah gathered round. Robber Hawk hung limp from the Toyman's hand. His dark brown feathers never stirred. His white breast with its dark bars and patches never moved. "Robber Hawk," spoke the Toyman, "your old curved beak will never feed on any more good chicken." Then he turned to the children. "We must bury him by Jim Crow."
It looked very much like the Toyman's invention. And it was just the thing for Johnny, who was so lame. When he saw it he just clasped his hands, and this time the tears did really come, and they ran from the corners of his eyes and down his cheeks. But they were very happy tears. "You're all so good to me," was all he said.
Little puffs of smoke like white feathers floated away from the muzzles of the gun. "Winged him, anyway!" cried the Toyman. They looked up. Robber Hawk wasn't sailing in the sky any longer. He was falling, falling, like a stone just like Jim Crow. "The Toyman's a good shot," exclaimed Jehosophat. "My, how I wish I could shoot like that!" Mother Green came to the back door.
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