me as any tired feller's--'ain't been right good Sunday-school
company for several years."

So he climbed back up the hill once more, and, coming to his cabin, had
a long, earnest look at the picks, bars, drills, and other implements
of mining, heavy with dust, in the corner.

"If only the day wasn't practically gone," said he, "I'd start to work
on the claim this afternoon."

But he touched no tools, and presently instead he took the grave little
foundling on his knee and told him, all over, the tales the little
fellow seemed most to enjoy.

When the stock of provisions was finally fetched to the house by Webber
himself, the worthy smith was obliged to explain that part of the money
supplied to Field for the purchase of the food had been confiscated for
debt at the store. In consequence of this the quantity had been cut to
a half its intended dimensions.

"And the worst of it is," said the blacksmith, in conclusion, "we all
owe a little at the store, and Parky's got suspicious that we're
sneakin' things to you."

Indeed, as he left the house, he saw that certain red-nosed microbe of
a human being attached to the gambler, spying on his visit to the hill.
Stopping for a moment to reflect upon the nearness of Christmas and the
needless worry that he might inflict by informing Jim of his discovery,
Webber shook his head and went his way, keeping the matter to himself.

But with food in the house old Jim was again at ease, so much so,
indeed, that he quite forgot to begin that promised work upon his
claim. He had never worked except when dire necessity made resting no
longer possible, and then only long enough to secure the wherewithal
for sufficient food to last him through another period of sitting
around to think. If thinking upon subjects of no importance whatsoever
had been a lucrative employment, Jim would certainly have accumulated
the wealth of the whole wide world.

He took his pick in his hands the following day, but placed it again in
its corner, slowly, after a moment's examination of its blunted steel.

Three days went by. The weather was colder. Bitter winds and frowning
clouds were hastening somewhere to a conclave of the wintry elements.
It was four days only to Christmas. Neither the promised Noah's ark to
present to tiny Skeezucks nor the Christmas-tree on which the men had
planned to hang their gifts was one whit nearer to realization than as
if they had never been suggested.

Meantime,