Green, the
housekeeper, a good-natured lady upon whom Tom had played many a joke in
the past.
"Gosh! I mustn't be discovered!" he muttered, and looked around for some
place to hide. Under the staircase was a recess containing a number of
hooks with cloaks and overcoats, and into this he crowded, drawing one
of the overcoats so as to completely cover the upper portion of his
body.
Hardly had he gained the hiding place when Mrs. Green reached the lower
hallway. Tom heard her pause at the foot of the stairs, strike a match,
and light the big swinging lamp hanging from overhead.
"I might as well mend that overcoat now, while the captain is away," Tom
heard her murmur to herself. "It's only a buttonhole that's torn out,
and a tailor would charge him four times what it's worth--and he always
so good at Christmas-time!"
"She's looking out for her present," thought Tom, with a grin. "But
that's none of my affair. If only she isn't after this overcoat!"
He heard the housekeeper approach the recess and pause for a moment in
front of it.
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