The Imp's Christmas Dinner
quickly. "No, you can't! There won't be anybody. They aren't going till late"
"How late?" asked Uncle George.
"Oh—late," said the Imp vaguely. "An' all the other stores will have the other people. They're going to another place."
"Where?" asked Uncle George. He held the Imp tight and looked rather sternly at him.
"To Ferris's, in Brooklyn," said the Imp promptly.
"It's a lie!" the little man burst out. "Ferris has enough clerks! "
"He's bought a new store," said the Imp, whom the heat of the open fire was making sleepier than ever. "Miss Murphy told him about the clerks an' he wants 'em. He hates Henderson, too. Henderson is too fresh," he explained drowsily.
"I cannot stay any longer to be insulted, Mr. Scott," began Mr. Henderson angrily, but Mr. Scott had risen, and still holding the Imp looked sternly down at him.
"I think you had better stay, Henderson," he remarked calmly, "there may be something to be done yet. It's not too late."
"You don't mean you believe all that tomfool-
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