A Reversible Santa Claus | Page 2

contrasted with the world's abundance, that he lifted forty thousand
dollars in a neat bundle from an express car which Providence had
sidetracked, apparently for his personal enrichment, on the upper
waters of the Penobscot. Whereupon he began perforce playing his old
game of artful dodging, exercising his best powers as a hopper and

skipper. Forty thousand dollars is no inconsiderable sum of money, and
the success of this master stroke of his career was not to be jeopardized
by careless moves. By craftily hiding in the big woods and making
himself agreeable to isolated lumberjacks who rarely saw newspapers,
he arrived in due course on Manhattan Island, where with shrewd
judgment he avoided the haunts of his kind while planning a future
commensurate with his new dignity as a capitalist.
He spent a year as a diligent and faithful employee of a garage which
served a fashionable quarter of the metropolis; then, animated by a
worthy desire to continue to lead an honest life, he purchased a chicken
farm fifteen miles as the crow flies from Center Church, New Haven,
and boldly opened a bank account in that academic center in his newly
adopted name of Charles S. Stevens, of Happy Hill Farm. Feeling the
need of companionship, he married a lady somewhat his junior, a
shoplifter of the second class, whom he had known before the vigilance
of the metropolitan police necessitated his removal to the Far West.
Mrs. Stevens's inferior talents as a petty larcenist had led her into many
difficulties, and she gratefully availed herself of The Hopper's offer of
his heart and hand.
They had added to their establishment a retired yegg who had lost an
eye by the premature popping of the "soup" (i.e., nitro-glycerin) poured
into the crevices of a country post-office in Missouri. In offering shelter
to Mr. James Whitesides, alias "Humpy" Thompson, The Hopper's
motives had not been wholly unselfish, as Humpy had been entrusted
with the herding of poultry in several penitentiaries and was familiar
with the most advanced scientific thought on chicken culture.
The roadster was headed toward his home and The Hopper
contemplated it in the deepening dusk with greedy eyes. His labors in
the New York garage had familiarized him with automobiles, and while
he was not ignorant of the pains and penalties inflicted upon lawless
persons who appropriate motors illegally, he was the victim of an
irresistible temptation to jump into the machine thus left in the highway,
drive as near home as he dared, and then abandon it. The owner of the
roadster was presumably eating his evening meal in peace in the snug

little cottage behind the shrubbery, and The Hopper was aware of no
sound reason why he should not seize the vehicle and further widen the
distance between himself and a suspicious-looking gentleman he had
observed on the New Haven local.
The Hopper's conscience was not altogether at ease, as he had, that
afternoon, possessed himself of a bill-book that was protruding from
the breast-pocket of a dignified citizen whose strap he had shared in a
crowded subway train. Having foresworn crime as a means of
livelihood, The Hopper was chagrined that he had suffered himself to
be beguiled into stealing by the mere propinquity of a piece of red
leather. He was angry at the world as well as himself. People should
not go about with bill-books sticking out of their pockets; it was unfair
and unjust to those weak members of the human race who yield readily
to temptation.
He had agreed with Mary when she married him and the chicken farm
that they would respect the Ten Commandments and all statutory laws,
State and Federal, and he was painfully conscious that when he
confessed his sin she would deal severely with him. Even Humpy, now
enjoying a peace that he had rarely known outside the walls of prison,
even Humpy would be bitter. The thought that he was again among the
hunted would depress Mary and Humpy, and he knew that their
harshness would be intensified because of his violation of the unwritten
law of the underworld in resorting to purse-lifting, an infringement
upon a branch of felony despicable and greatly inferior in dignity to
safe-blowing.
These reflections spurred The Hopper to action, for the sooner he
reached home the more quickly he could explain his protracted stay in
New York (to which metropolis he had repaired in the hope of making
a better price for eggs with the commission merchants who handled his
products), submit himself to Mary's chastisement, and promise to sin no
more. By returning on Christmas Eve, of all times, again a fugitive, he
knew that he would merit the unsparing condemnation that Mary and
Humpy would visit upon him. It was possible, it was even quite