know how sick he was
gettin'. He won't look up. He couldn't see the tree. He can't be
like the most of little kids, for he don't even seem to know it's
Christmas."

"Aw, poor little feller!" said Keno. "Jim, what we goin' to do?"

"You go down and ask Miss Doc if I can fetch him there," instructed
Jim. "I think she likes him, or she wouldn't have made his little
clothes. She's a decent woman, and I know she's got a heart. Go on
the run! I'm sorry I didn't give in before."

The fat little Keno ran, in his shirt-sleeves, and without his hat.

Jim was afraid the motionless little foundling was dying in his arms.
He could presently wait no longer, either for Keno's return or for
anything else. He caught up two of the blankets from the bed, and,
wrapping them eagerly, swiftly about the moaning little man, left his
cabin standing open and hastened down the white declivity as fast as he
could go, Tintoretto, with puppy whinings of concern, closely tagging
at his heels.

Lufkins, starting to climb once more to the cabin, beheld him from
afar. With all his speed he darted back to the blacksmith-shop and the
tree.

"He coming!" he cried, when fifty yards away. "Light the
candles--quick!"

In a fever of joy and excitement the rough fellows lighted up their
home-made tree. The forge flung a largess of heat and light, as red as
holly, through the gloom of the place. All the men were prepared with
a cheer, their faces wreathed with smiles, in a new sort of joy. But
the moments sped away in silence and nothing of Jim and the one small
cause of their happiness appeared. Indeed, the gray old miner was at
Dennihan's already. Keno had met him on the hill with an eager cry
that welcome and refuge were gladly prepared.

With her face oddly softened by the news and appeal, Miss Doc herself
came running to the gate, her hungry arms outstretched to take the
child.

"Just make him well," was Jim's one cry. "I know a woman can make him
well."

And all afternoon the men at the blacksmith's-shop kept up their hope.
Keno had come to them, telling of the altered plans by which little
Skeezucks had found his way to Miss Doc, but by special instruction he
added that Jim was certain that improvement was coming already.

"He told me that evenin' is the customary hour fer to have a tree,
anyhow," concluded Keno, hopefully. "He says he was off when he said
to turn it loose at noon."

"Does he think Miss Doc can git the l