"That's right," he whispered in reply. "You're a good deducer, after
all. I wish I had my dark lantern. Thunderation!" He stubbed his toe
against the sewing machine. There is nothing that hurts more than
unintentional contact with a sewing machine. "Why in sixty don't you
light a light, Eva? How can I--"

"Listen!" she whispered shrilly. "Hear that? Anderson, there's some one
walkin' on the porch!"

"'y gosh!" faltered he. "Sure as Christmas! You wait here, Eva, till I
go upstairs an' put on my badge and I'll--"

"I'll do nothing of the kind. You don't ketch me stayin' down here
alone," and she grabbed the back of his nightshirt as he started for the
stairs.

"Sho! What air you afeerd of? I'll get my revolver, too. I never did see
such a coward'y calf as--"

Just then there was a tremendous pounding on the front door, followed by
the creaking of footsteps on the frozen porch, a clatter down the steps,
and then the same old howling of the wind. The Crows jumped almost out
of their scanty garments, and then settled down as if frozen to the
spot. It was a full minute before Anderson found his voice--in advance
of Mrs. Crow at that, which was more than marvellous.

"What was that?" he chattered.

"A knock!" she gasped.

"Some neighbour's sick."

"Old Mrs. Luce. Oh, goodness, how my heart's going!"

"Why don't you open the door, Eva?"

"Why don't you? It's your place."

"But, doggone it, cain't you see--I mean feel--that I ain't got hardly
any clothes on? I'd ketch my death o' cold, an' besides--"

"Well, I ain't got as much on as you have. You got socks on an'--"

"But supposin' it's a woman," protested he. "You wouldn't want a woman
to see me lookin' like this, would you? Go ahead an'--"

"I suppose you'd like to have a man see me like this. I ain't used to
receivin' men in--but, say, whoever it was, is gone. Didn't you hear the
steps? Open the door, Anderson. See what it is."

And so, after much urging, Anderson Crow unbolted his front door and
turned the knob. The wind did the rest. It almost blew the door off its
hinges, carrying Mr. and Mrs. Crow back against the wall. A gale of snow
swept over them.

"Gee!" gasped Anderson, crimping his toes. Mrs. Crow was peering under
his arm.

"Look there!" she cried. Close to the door a large bundle was lying.

"A present from some one!" speculated Mr. Crow; but some seconds passed
before he stooped to pick it up. "Funny time fer Santy to be callin'
'rou