Arnold’s house was only a five-minute ride from the station, and Toby, to whom the city was unfamiliar and vastly entertaining, wished it had been farther. His enjoyment of the sights, however, was somewhat dampened by the seeming recklessness of the taxi-cab driver, and more than once he started to his feet to be ready to meet death standing. It kept Arnold quite busy pulling him back to the seat. Arnold’s Aunt Alice, who, since his mother’s death, had kept house for Mr. Deering, was the only one to welcome them, aside from the servants, for Arnold’s father did not return from his down town office until the middle of the afternoon. Toby was conducted by Arnold and a man-servant with a striped waistcoat and a maid-servant with apron and cap and Aunt Alice’s spaniel, San Toy, into an elevator, past two floors, along a hall and at last into a great wonderful room that quite took his breath away. It was all very exciting and confusing and jolly, and San Toy, entering into the spirit of the occasion, barked so hard that he lifted his front paws from the floor! And after the servants had deposited the bags and coats and gone away, Arnold pulled Toby through a door into his own room adjoining and they looked from the windows over a vast expanse of trees and lawn and winding paths and shimmering lakes which Arnold said was Central Park and which Toby accepted as such and vowed that he could never tire of looking at it. After luncheon they went for a walk there, but soon hurried back to the house to meet Mr. Deering who had telephoned that he would be home an hour earlier than usual.

Arnold’s father was so nice to Toby and seemed so glad to have him there that Toby forgot much of the embarrassment that had affected him on his arrival and actually found himself sitting down in a big velvet-cushioned chair without, for once, wondering whether he would damage it! Mr. Deering was rather stout, with grizzled hair and a most carefully trimmed mustache. Toby fancied that he could be very crisp and even stern in his office, but at home he was jovial and kindly and one might easily have concluded that for the time at least he had nothing in the world to do but invent and provide amusement for the two eager-eyed boys just out of school. The big limousine car was summoned, and every one, including Aunt Alice and San Toy, piled into it, and were whisked away northward over smooth pavements, along a blue-gray river, over a great bridge and into the country. Long before they turned back the sun had gone down behind sullen clouds and when they reached the town again the lights were twinkling down the long streets. And then, to Arnold’s loudly expressed delight, when they got out of the car at the house little flecks of snow were falling and the evening had grown quite cold. From that time until dinner was ready Arnold made frequent trips to the windows and always returned with the cheering news that “it was still at it.”

A wonderful dinner that! Toby, viewing so many forks and knives and spoons and plates with dire misgiving, felt extremely uneasy for the first few minutes for fear he might use the wrong utensil. But Aunt Alice came to his rescue. “It doesn’t matter, Toby,” she said, “which fork or spoon you use. I don’t think Arnold ever gets them just right himself.” And Mr. Deering laughingly suggested that Toby might follow the example of the man who, finding himself left with two unused spoons, saved the situation by dropping them in his pocket! After dinner the car rolled up again and they went off to the theater. To Arnold’s joy the play was the one he had decided he wanted most to see, and Mr. Deering gravely explained the coincidence by mental telepathy and got Toby very interested and astonished before the latter discovered that it was just a joke. But perhaps Toby didn’t enjoy that play! It was absolutely beautiful and astounding and thrilling from the rise of the first curtain to the lamentable fall of the last, and, although to prolong the gayety they stopped at a gorgeous restaurant and ate things, Toby couldn’t remember afterwards what he had had, or much of anything except the play. He would have stayed awake half the rest of the night—it was already well past midnight when they reached home again—talking it over with Arnold if that unfeeling brute hadn’t fallen to sleep almost immediately.

They awoke in the morning, frightfully and deliciously late, to find the world carpeted with a good inch of snow. From the windows of Arnold’s room on the front of the house the scene was like fairyland. Or so, at least, Toby declared. Every branch of every tree and shrub in the Park was frosted with snow and what had been grass yesterday was this morning an unsullied expanse of white. But to Arnold’s disgust the sun was out, shining brilliantly if frostily, and already the streets were almost bare. Toby, though, declined to be down-hearted, reminding his chum that it would probably snow again to-morrow, and Arnold, on that understanding, concluded that life still held a faint promise of happiness and decided to get dressed and have some breakfast.

But they didn’t spend much time at the table. One isn’t extremely hungry at nine if one has supped at midnight, and, besides, both boys were eager to get out of doors. To Toby this forenoon was an important occasion, for he was to do his Christmas shopping, and when a chap has all of eight dollars to spend just as he sees fit he doesn’t care to waste much time on such every-day things as breakfasts!

They traveled downtown on the top of a bus, missing very little of the brilliant pageant set before them. The holiday spirit was in the air and the very city itself seemed sensible of the season’s significance. The sunlight shone dazzlingly on patches of wet pavement, above the roofs clouds of white steam billowed up against a blue sky and everywhere was color and life. The windows of the shops were gorgeous with holiday displays and on all sides the scarlet of holly berries and the green of fir and pine met the eager eyes of the boys. The street was a solid stream of moving vehicles, dashing motor cars, lumbering busses, sedate carriages, rattling delivery wagons. Nickel and brass and shining varnish caught the sunlight. It was three days to Christmas, but one might have thought from the hurry and bustle of the busy shoppers that that important occasion was due no later than to-morrow. Toby was very thrilled and very excited by the time they disembarked, seemingly at the risk of their lives, at Thirty-fourth Street, and Arnold, although far more accustomed to the inspiring scene, found himself in a truly holiday mood.

Arnold was postponing his own shopping until the next day in order that Toby, who was to continue on to Greenhaven in the afternoon, might have the services of his advice and assistance. Toby had ruefully confided to his chum that his capital was small and Arnold had decided that Fifth Avenue was not the place for purchasing. So, when they had gained the sidewalk in safety by what appeared to Toby nothing short of a miracle, they started away along the cross streets. They didn’t make very rapid progress, though, for Toby found something fascinating in nearly every window, and more than once Arnold discovered himself alone and had to retrace his steps and drag the other away from rapt contemplation of a marvelous display. Toby’s unbounded admiration and wonder pleased Arnold, and the latter thoroughly enjoyed exhibiting the marvels of his city to his friend. They were about midway of the block when Arnold missed Toby for perhaps the sixth time. He turned back, but none of the near-by windows reflected the countenance of T. Tucker. Arnold was about reaching the conclusion that Toby was lost when he suddenly caught a glimpse of that youth standing by the curbing. Arnold fought his way back to him. Toby was talking to a seedy looking man whose unshaven face and watery, shifty eyes inspired Arnold with anything but confidence. But he reached the scene too late, for Toby was already returning his purse to his pocket when Arnold seized his arm.

“Don’t be a chump, Toby,” he said impatiently. “That fellow’s got more money right now than you have. How much did you give him?”

“Only a quarter,” replied Toby gravely. “He hasn’t had anything to eat for two days, and his wife’s sick and—”

“I know! His grandmother’s broken a leg and all his children have scarlet fever! Gee, you oughtn’t to be trusted around this burg with any money in your pocket. The man’s a professional beggar, you idiot!”

Toby looked both shocked and incredulous. “I don’t think so, Arn,” he protested. “If you’d heard him—”

“I’ve heard lots of them,” returned the other impatiently. “You stay with me after this and keep your hand out of your pocket. If you’re going to give money to all the beggars that ask for it, you won’t have a cent when you get into a store!”

“I just couldn’t help giving him a little,” said Toby. “Did you notice that he didn’t have any overcoat? Why, his hands were blue with the cold, Arn!”

“Yes, and his nose was red with it—or something else. Toby, you’re an awful green little yap, that’s what you are!”

“What’s a yap?” asked Toby untroubledly.

“It’s what you are,” laughed Arnold. “Come on in here and see what we can do. This is as reasonable as any place, I guess.”

They pushed through a revolving door and found themselves in a big department store that was just about twice as crowded as the sidewalk had been. Arnold found a magnificent gentleman in a long black frock coat and asked his way to the cutlery department. While they were receiving directions some one tugged at Toby’s coat, or seemed to, and he looked around. A man with a stubbly red mustache muttered an apology and pushed past, and Toby smiled forgivingly and followed Arnold through the throng. He had decided a week ago to pay as much as five dollars for a shaving set for his father, but that was before his discovery that just before Christmas was a bad time for collections! Now his limit was three dollars and he doubted that that amount would buy anything nice enough. But when the salesman began to place the goods before them on the counter Toby took heart. It was simply wonderful what you could get for a dollar and ninety-eight cents in this place! In the end he decided on a set costing two dollars and seventy-five cents—there was none for exactly three dollars—and put his hand into an overcoat pocket to get his purse out. The hand returned empty. The other hand went into the other pocket and fared no better and a look of surprise bordering on alarm overspread the boy’s countenance.

“What’s the matter?” asked Arnold.

“I can’t find—my purse,” gasped Toby, both hands probing diligently.

“You wouldn’t have it there, would you?” asked Arnold anxiously. “Try your trousers, why don’t you?”

“I—I’m pretty sure I dropped it into my overcoat pocket after I gave that man the quarter.” Toby searched his other pockets, however, to make certain, but without success. “It’s gone!” he announced in utter dismay, staring blankly at his friend.

“Some one pinched it,” said Arnold, with conviction. “What the dickens did you ever put it in an outside pocket for? Didn’t you know that there were pickpockets in the world?”

“I—I guess I didn’t think,” murmured Toby disconsolately, still dipping unavailingly into various parts of his clothing. “It—it’s clean gone, anyway. Here’s where I put it.”

“That was a swell place,” said Arnold scathingly. “Here, I’ll pay for this and you can pay me back some time.”

The salesman, sympathetic but a trifle impatient, started to accept Arnold’s money, but Toby interfered. “No, please, Arn! I’d rather not, thanks. I’ve lost my money and it’s my own fault and—”

“But you’ve got to buy your presents! We’ll go down to the office and get some more from dad. I’ve only got about three and a half.”

“I’d rather not. I couldn’t pay it back for a long while. I’ll just have to tell the folks what happened, Arn. They won’t mind—much—when they understand.”

“But why not let me loan you enough for the razor set, anyway? You don’t need to pay me back for a year, you silly chump!”

But Toby was obdurate. “I—maybe I’ll come back for that later,” he told the salesman apologetically. “Thanks for your trouble.”

“That’s all right,” returned the man heartily. “It’s too bad you lost it. You didn’t feel anything, did you? I mean you wouldn’t know where it happened?”

Toby’s eyes narrowed and he stared for a moment straight ahead. Then, before Arnold could stop him, he had turned and was plunging determinedly through the crowd. Arnold hurried after him, sighting him now and then and finally reaching him near the entrance.

“Where are you going?” panted Arnold, seizing the other by the arm.

“I don’t know,” answered Toby thoughtfully. “Listen, Arn. While you were asking that man where the razors were I felt something tug at my coat and I looked around and there was a man pushing by me. He said he was sorry or something and—and beat it. I’ll bet you anything he did it!”

“Of course he did! But what of it? You don’t expect to find him waiting for you to come back, do you?”

Toby shook his head doubtfully. “No, I guess not. Only I thought he might be still around here. I’d know him in a minute if I saw him. Don’t you think that maybe if we sort of walked around and kept our eyes open we might find him?”

“No, I certainly don’t,” said Arnold decidedly. “As soon as he got that purse of yours he hiked out for some other place, naturally.”

“Oh!” murmured Toby disappointedly. “Where do you think he went?”

“Great Scott! How do I know? He might be just around the corner or he may be a mile away by this time. You might just as well make up your mind to doing without that money, Toby. I’m awfully sorry, old man. And I do wish you’d let me lend you some. It’s perfectly silly not to. If it was I who had lost my purse I’d take a loan from you in a minute.”

Toby smiled wanly at the idea of lending money to Arnold. Then the smile faded and he said: “Gee, I needed that eight dollars, Arn. It—it’s tough, isn’t it?”

“It certainly is, Toby. I’m as sorry as anything. Hang it, if you hadn’t been crazy enough to hand out money to a beggar it wouldn’t have happened. After this—”

“I know, but there won’t be any after this. Look here, Arn, I wish you’d let me have a dime and then run along home. I want to look around a bit and there’s no use dragging you around too. Will you?”

“Look around? You mean you want to look for the chap who swiped your purse? That’s crazy, Toby, honestly. You haven’t got one chance in a hundred, one chance in ten thousand, of ever seeing him again.”

“Maybe not, but—but I’d sort of like to try, Arn. You slip me a dime and—”

“Slip you nothing! If you must make a silly ass of yourself I’ll stick around with you. Where do you want to go first?”

“Where’s the nearest big store like this?”

“I don’t know, but we can go and look for it. Do you think he’ll be there?”

“He might be. You see, if he did so well here he might think he ought to stick to department stores, and he’d probably take the next one. Wouldn’t you argue about like that, Arn?”

“Maybe I would, if I were a pickpocket,” chuckled Arnold. “All right, old man. Come on. Only I warn you right now that you’re only starting on a wild goose chase, so don’t be disappointed, Toby.”

“I shan’t be,” answered Toby soberly. On the sidewalk he left Arnold and addressed the carriage-man on the curb. “He says,” he announced when he rejoined his chum, “that there’s another big store just a little way along here. It’s the nearest, so I guess we’d better go there first.”

“First? You don’t mean that you intend to make the round of all the department stores, do you?”

“I guess there wouldn’t be time for that,” answered Toby, shaking his head. “You see, my train leaves at three-forty. Besides, I guess that fellow with the red mustache would get tired, or maybe he’d make so much money by dinner time he’d just naturally quit. If he got eight dollars from every one he tackled he’d be mighty well off by noon, wouldn’t he?”

“Toby, you’re an awful idiot,” laughed Arnold affectionately as he took him by the arm and steered him along the street. “I’ll let you play detective till a quarter to one. Then you’ve got to give up and come home to luncheon.”

“All right. I dare say we can do half a dozen stores by that time. Listen, Arn, I’ll tell you what the man looked like so you can be on the watch too, eh? He was short and sort of slim, and he wore a brown overcoat with a velvet collar, and he had a reddish mustache cut close and sort of bristly, and he wore a slouch hat.”

“A what?”

“A slouch hat; a soft one, you know; felt. It was dark; I think either black or dark gray.”

“Well, that’s a pretty good description considering you only saw him for a second,” applauded Arnold as they entered the store. “We’d better keep out of sight as much as we can, because if he spotted us first he’d suspect something and run. Let’s go around here and work back and then come down the next aisle, and so on. Shall we?”

“I—I don’t know about that,” responded the other. “Seems to me he’d be likely to stay around where the crowd was thickest, and perhaps he’d try to keep near a door in case he had to—to leave hurriedly.”

“That’s so, Toby. You’re a regular Sherlock Holmes! All right. The crowd’s about as thick right here as it is anywhere. Have a look. Do you see him?” Arnold was beginning to enjoy the task now and tried to look as much like his conception of a sleuth as he could. Toby, backed against a counter at one side of the big entrance peered and craned for several minutes, but finally announced that he didn’t see the quarry. So they began a pilgrimage of the lower floor, pausing wherever the crowd was densest. Near the elevators they found a point of vantage and spent quite ten minutes but without result other than being pushed and elbowed and trod on. From there they went on to the foot of a central stairway and again took up their watch. But no red-mustached, brown-overcoated individual rewarded their sight, although they both more than once thrilled with the prospect of success at sight of a brown garment in the throng. They spent more than half an hour in that store, and Arnold’s enthusiasm was waning fast by the time Toby acknowledged defeat and led the way toward the big doorway.

“I guess it’s no use,” sighed Toby. “He’s a goner. And so’s my money.”

“Well, I told you that in the first place,” said Arnold, just a trifle peevishly by reason of having been shoved around and bumped into until he felt, as he told himself, like a wreck. “Want to try any other place? It’s nearly twelve and—”

He stopped suddenly, for Toby’s hand was gripping his arm painfully. “There he is!” whispered Toby. “Look! Over by the umbrellas!”