him. But on Christmas Eve he drives his reindeer out into the big
world, carrying a sleighload of toys and pretty gifts to the children;
and this was the time and the occasion when his enemies had the best
chance to injure him. So the Daemons laid their plans and awaited the
arrival of Christmas Eve.

The moon shone big and white in the sky, and the snow lay crisp and
sparkling on the ground as Santa Claus cracked his whip and sped away
out of the Valley into the great world beyond. The roomy sleigh was
packed full with huge sacks of toys, and as the reindeer dashed onward
our jolly old Santa laughed and whistled and sang for very joy. For
in all his merry life this was the one day in the year when he was
happiest--the day he lovingly bestowed the treasures of his workshop
upon the little children.

It would be a busy night for him, he well knew. As he whistled and
shouted and cracked his whip again, he reviewed in mind all the towns
and cities and farmhouses where he was expected, and figured that he
had just enough presents to go around and make every child happy. The
reindeer knew exactly what was expected of them, and dashed along so
swiftly that their feet scarcely seemed to touch the snow-covered ground.

Suddenly a strange thing happened: a rope shot through the moonlight
and a big noose that was in the end of it settled over the arms and
body of Santa Claus and drew tight. Before he could resist or even
cry out he was jerked from the seat of the sleigh and tumbled head
foremost into a snowbank, while the reindeer rushed onward with the
load of toys and carried it quickly out of sight and sound.

Such a surprising experience confused old Santa for a moment, and when