Christmas! This was the first time they had planned a real Christmas since they left their homes years ago. But now the heart had been taken out of the day.
They sat down to a listless breakfast. McGill came in.
“She’s still fighting. She’s got to win or lose pretty soon,” he said.
They did not go to the mine that morning. It was the first Christmas the Little Bear Mine had not run.
At ten o’clock McGill came in to report.
“Boys, I can’t stand it any longer. She’s wearing her strength away fretting for that cat. I’m not sure that a cat would really quiet her, and I hardly believe any living man can make it to Telluride, but I’m going to try.”
“No, you’re not,” said the Canadian. “She needs you here. Besides, you’re worn out. I’ll get the cat.”
“We’ll draw for it,” said the men.
“No use. Gus and I are the only two good enough on skis to have a fighting chance.”
“Gus! That brute hasn’t got the heart of a mine mule! He wouldn’t go at the point of a gun! Where is he? I haven’t seen him since last night,” stormed the foreman.