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Updated: June 21, 2025
Hit my shack once, and 'cause 'twas raining, bored holes in the roof so the place got all wet inside." "But it isn't raining now. Doesn't it usually rain when you have a thunder storm here?" asked the Professor. "No. Ain't had no rain in nigh onto two year," the hermit reiterated. "You'd better go and put on some clothes," suggested Kris Kringle. "Guess that's right."
What are you doing out there?" demanded the guide. "Sitting on the lightning." "You come in here! And quick, at that!" "Huh! Guess I know what I'm doing. Lightning never strikes twice in the same place. I'm " By this time Kris Kringle had the fat boy by the collar, hustling him to the protection of one of the tents.
Kris Kringle ducked with amazing quickness. Crawling back into the cave, he reached for his own rifle and then sought the opening, taking good care not to expose himself to the fire of the unseen enemy. Stacy, on his part, had lost no time in getting to a place of safety inside, though he was prudent enough to crawl instead of getting up and walking in." "What does this mean?
With a howl, the lad threw himself down on the ledge. At that instant Kris Kringle sprang to the opening of the cave. "What does this mean?" he snapped. "I don't know. Somebody knocked the axe out of my hand then shot at me." The guide discovered the trouble right there. A bullet snipped his hat from his head; and, striking the ceiling of the cave-home, dropped to the floor with a dull clatter.
"Must be me they're after," he suggested, with a forced grin, falling flat on the ledge, and wriggling back into the cave. The twilight was upon them now. The guide had been able to see the flash of the rifle below him, and had taken a quick shot at it when the enemy attempted to wing Tad Butler. Kringle had no means of knowing whether his shot had been effective or not.
Hard is the lot of childhood that knows nothing of the visits of Kriss Kringle, or the stockings hung by the chimney at night; and cheerless is any age that is not brightened by some Christmas gift, however humble. What a mystery of preparation there is in the preceding days, what planning and plottings of surprises!
Kris Kringle was silent for a moment. "I need a little change of scene," he smiled. "How would you like to have me take the trail with you for a week or so?" "Would you?" glowed the Professor, half rising from his chair. "I think I might." "Hurrah!" cried the Pony Riders enthusiastically. "That will be fine." "Of course, you understand that I expect no pay.
The coat was of that extremely thin black material which occasionally is affected by clerks and dentists and more often by librarians. If ever I looked upon an honest German jowl, or even upon a caricature thereof, I looked upon one now. Such pinlike pink merry eyes as made me think of Kris Kringle himself.
They had had a tree, a Kris Kringle, or something of the sort, every year since they could remember; but a wedding was a rare event, and to be a bridesmaid was as great an honor, Dotty thought, as could be conferred on any little girl. It was intended that everything should be as much as possible like the original wedding. Mrs.
"We will," answered the boys promptly. "No; you stay here. I'll get them," answered Kris Kringle. "Light me up the stairs so I don't break my neck in this old rookery. One of the boys lighted the way to the next floor, then stepped back into the cellar, where Mr. Marquand was turning over the treasure in an effort to find out if the pile extended all the way to the bottom of the chest.
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