little woolly one that emitted a squeaky bark when gently punched in the stomach.
"William Sanderson!" called St. Nicholas, and a lad who did little else than fish in his spare time, was presented with a small pole and line, from which dangled a tin trout.
So it went on, until a score of the boys and several girls had been given toy presents bearing on their particular traits of character.
Meanwhile Ned and Fenn had been whispering to each other.
"Shall I do it now?" asked Ned, as St. Nicholas seemed to have reached the bottom of his bag.
"Yes," whispered Fenn.
As Santa Claus prepared to leave, thinking perhaps his identity had not been penetrated, Ned walked forward.
"One moment," he called, and St. Nicholas halted in the act of dragging out his tiny reindeer and sleigh.
"Though you have remembered us, you have forgotten yourself," Ned went on. "Therefore, Mr. Bart Keene, alias St. Nicholas, on behalf of the pupils of the school I present you with this."
Before Bart could get away Ned had torn the false beard from his chum's face. Then, holding out what seemed to be a basket-ball, Ned sud-
