s unlucky successor in the post of
agent.

His chief cause for disquiet had been the hidden personality of the
man whom he had seen in the sky, and who had afterwards rescued him
from the blizzard near God's Voice. The haunting recollection of those
eyes, of which he had caught but a glimpse as the man bent over him
and the fire beat up into his shrouded face, had tortured him,
allowing him rest from thought neither day nor night. For weeks he had
searched his memory for some forgotten record, which would account for
their seeming familiarity. Where had he seen them before? Was it
before he left England, or in the Klondike? Or had their owner once
come to trade with him at the store?

Ten days ago, when he was sitting half-dozing by the stove, thinking
of nothing in particular, a face had drifted up from his subconscious
memory, grouping its features about the eyes. He had staggered to his
feet, horrified at the significance which this new knowledge, if true,
gave to the motive of the crime. Bewildering details, which he had
noticed in the man's appearance and had not been able to reconcile,
now built themselves into the chain of evidence and were readily
explained--there could be no mistake. He had bowed his head in his
trembling hands, giving God broken thanks that he had been spared the
final remorse which would have come to him had he been successful in
his pursuit of Spurling's murderer. All that night he had prayed,
aghast and terrified, that God would protect the assailant from
detection.

And perhaps God had heard him, for the morning found him strangely
quiet; he thought that he had now discovered a way to go out of life a
gentleman, though no one but himself and one other would know that his
gallantry was not disgrace.

The short December daylight wore away and night fell. He spread a meal
for four people, with fare which was unusually ample. Having lit the
lamp and built up a roaring fire in the stove, he sat down to await
the arrival of his guests.

To evade his excitement of anticipation, which was becoming painful,
he drove his thoughts back to other Christmas Eves, and tried to
imagine and share in the innocent happiness which the season was
bringing to children, still illusioned and unwise, all the world over
that night. He had almost succeeded in beguiling himself into the
belief that he was again a child, when the huskies commenced to howl,
giving warning of someone's approach.

Listening acut