shedding, and the pillow that supported
her was still wet with them.

Billy stooped down and kissed her parted lips and her white forehead,
while Mr. Wrangler, leaning jauntily against the door, hummed in low
strains a melodious lullaby.

"Nothing ails this child," said Billy, when the sound of Mr. Wrangler's
voice had died away. "Nothing at all."

[Illustration: UPON THE BED LAY AS PRETTY A CHILD AS HE HAD EVER SEEN.]

"Warlock, dear boy," replied Wrangler, "I think you told me you had
never been an uncle. The man who has not drank the bitter waters of an
uncle's experience for himself is--pardon me, but I must say it--wholly
incompetent to speak as to the woes of childhood. How often have you
wooed sleep amid the wailings of an infant voice? I'm disappointed in
you, Warlock!"

"Don't talk so loud, you'll waken her."

"Spare us that. Let me have my hat and stick. I'll get that paregoric if
I have to commit burglary!" and Mr. Wrangler started back as if fully
prepared to carry out his threat.

"Be quiet," said Billy, "and look here. My rooms are downstairs where I
live with my mother. It's too cold in here for the child. That's one
thing that ails her. I'll take her down with me, and when she's had her
breakfast in the morning, you can come for her."

Mr. Wrangler seized Billy's hand and shook it fervently. "Dear boy," he
said, "you're the kind of a friend to have. Take her and give her a good
night's rest."

Billy leaned over the bed, lifted the soundly sleeping child tenderly in
his big arms and, followed by Mr. Wrangler, he carried her down to his
own room and deposited her upon the bed. Then he turned to Wrangler.

"You'll come for her in the morning, you know?" he said.

[Illustration: HE CARRIED HER DOWN TO HIS OWN ROOM.]

"Certainly, old fellow. Good-night, I must get some sleep."

"Good-night," said Billy, "and a Merry Christmas to you."

Mr. Wrangler waved his hand with a grand farewell flourish, blew a kiss
toward the little form upon the bed, and passed out into the hall. He
waited there an instant, as if undecided what course to pursue. Then he
ran upstairs to the hall room, hurriedly crowded his personal effects
that lay scattered around the room into his valise, and ran down again
into the street. The front door closed with a sharp bang behind him, and
he quickly disappeared in the snowy night.

Billy could not help confessing to a sense of relief when his curious
new acquaintance left h