The children were dressed and warmly wrapped up by the time a horn was heard. Heads popped out of cabin-doors, and everyone looked in the direction of the tree. It was wonderfully illuminated, every candle flickering brightly in the dark. All about the clearing the great pine knots flared and the lanterns burned steadily, making the entire place a glow of light.
"Oh, Dot, run, run!" called Don, dragging his sister out by the hand.
"O-oh! isn't it grand!" sighed Dot, standing with clasped hands.
The others came out of their cabins and hurried over to the tree.
"Santa's come again and lit de lights!" cried Babs, ecstatically.
"Did he, Daddum?" asked Don, doubting that Santa did the lighting.
"I didn't do it, and I don't believe anyone of the men did it—did you?" asked Mr. Starr, turning to the group of smiling men.
"I didn't, and I know not one of the timber-jacks did it," said Mr. Latimer, soberly.
Suddenly, Babs, who was seeking under a branch for a tempting ball of pop-corn that hung low, gave a shriek of mingled fear and joy.
"Oh, he's here! He's sleeping in here!" cried she, pointing her chubby fingers toward the tree.