ng near the
fireplace. His garments--such as were left--were wet with melting snow,
and he had a half-starved, half-crazed expression. He held his thin,
trembling hands toward the fire, and the light of the blazing wood made
them almost transparent. He looked about him once in a while as if in
search of something, and his presence cast such a chill over the place
that gradually the sound of the revelry was hushed, and it seemed that
this waif of the storm had brought in with him all the gloom and coldness
of the warring elements. Goskin, mixing up a cup of hot egg-nogg, advanced
and remarked cheerily:

"Here, stranger, brace up! This is the real stuff."

The man drained the cup, smacked his lips, and seemed more at home.

"Been prospecting, eh? Out in the mountains--caught in the storm? Lively
night, this!"

"Pretty bad," said the man.

"Must feel pretty dry?"

The man looked at his streaming clothes and laughed, as if Goskin's remark
was a sarcasm.

"How long out?"

"Four days."

"Hungry?"

The man rose up, and, walking over to the lunch-counter, fell to work upon
some roast bear, devouring it as any wild animal would have done. As meat
and drink and warmth began to permeate the stranger he seemed to expand
and lighten up. His features lost their pallor, and he grew more and more
content with the idea that he was not in the grave. As he underwent these
changes the people about him got merrier and happier, and threw off the
temporary feeling of depression which he had laid upon them.

"Do you always have your place decorated like this?" he finally asked of
Goskin.

"This is Christmas eve," was the reply.

The stranger was startled.

"December 24, sure enough."

"That's the way I put it up, pard."

"When I was in England I always kept Christmas. But I had forgotten that
this was the night. I've been wandering about in the mountains until I've
lost track of the feasts of the Church."

Presently his eye fell upon the piano.

"Where's the player?" he asked.

"Never had any," said Goskin, blushing at the expression.

"I used to play when I was young."

Goskin almost fainted at the admission.

"Stranger, do tackle it, and give us a tune! Nary man in this camp ever
had the nerve to wrestle with that music-box." His pulse beat faster, for
he feared that the man would refuse.

"I'll do the best I can," he said.

There was no stool, but seizing a candle-box, he drew it up and seated
himself befor