"Four days."
"Hungry?"
The man rose up, and, walking over to the lunch-counter, fell to work upon some roast bear, devouring it as any wild animal would have done. As meat and drink and warmth began to permeate the stranger he seemed to expand and lighten up. His features lost their pallor, and he grew more and more content with the idea that he was not in the grave. As he underwent these changes the people about him got merrier and happier, and threw off the temporary feeling of depression which he had laid upon them.
"Do you always have your place decorated like this?" he finally asked of Goskin.
"This is Christmas eve," was the reply.
The stranger was startled.
"December 24, sure enough."
"That's the way I put it up, pard."
"When I was in England I always kept Christmas. But I had forgotten that this was the night. I've been wandering about in the mountains until I've lost track of the feasts of the Church."
Presently his eye fell upon the piano.