this moonbeam babe, so white, so gentle and
dark-haired.

Tessibel was warmer since he had come to her; her arms no longer
trembled, but her legs seemed to have lost their desire to walk. She
felt glad of that, too, because she was too tired to walk, anyway, and
the baby was very sweet. Then, once more, a long shadow came between her
and the moon and someone bent over her. Ah, 'twas Daddy Skinner, the
same beloved, heavy humped-shoulders--the same precious face, and he was
fondling the moon baby, and twice kissed _her_ with tender, twitching
lips. She smiled happily and moved a little in the snow. She tried to
catch Daddy's hand, tried to call his dear name, but only a little sound
came from her tightened, frozen throat. Then, smiling, Daddy Skinner
went back to the moon, and Tess, drowsily, cuddled the white babbling
closer, and went to sleep.

* * * * *

Deforrest Young brought his horse to an abrupt standstill. Had he heard
a faint sound off there in the path? With a sudden spring, he
dismounted. Over near the fence, he thought he had seen through the
streak of light a human hand move upward and then sink into the snow. He
paused a moment and shuddered. Had he lost his senses through the
suffering the week had brought him? He shook himself and turned to his
horse again. No silly vision should drag him across a snowdrift on such
a night. He was going home to Tessibel. In hesitant quandary, he still
stood staring west to the rail fence. Then, something impelled him to do
the very thing he had decided would be fruitless.

One bound took him through the piles of snow at the side of the road.
The lawyer bent down, his heart tightening with fear. A human being lay
close to the fence. Young quickly pulled the face into the moonlight.
The quiet, death-like form was Tessibel Skinner.

A huge sob tore its way from the lawyer's throat, and burst fiercely
through his teeth. Was she dead, his dearest who had received evil,
perhaps death, for the good she had done?

Above his head the limbs of a great tree sang their song of winter to
the night. Deforrest remembered Tess had always loved the whispering of
the wind. A low cry followed by words fell from his lips.

"Love air everywhere the hull time," he sobbed. "Oh, Love, Divine,
merciful Love, protect my pretty child!"

In another sixty seconds he was pounding through the snow road toward
the lake with a sleeping red-haired girl in his arms.