There was a fire in the stove, which Anderson replenished, while Eva began to remove the blankets and packing from the basket, which she had placed on the hearth.

Anderson looked on eagerly.
"Lord!" fell from the lips of both as the contents of the basket were exposed to their gaze.
A baby, alive and warm, lay packed in the blankets, sound asleep and happy.

For an interminable length of time the Crows, _en dishabille_, stood and gazed open-mouthed and awed at the little stranger.

Ten minutes later, after the ejaculations and surmises, after the tears and expletives, after the whole house had been aroused, Anderson Crow was plunging amiably but aimlessly through the snowstorm in search of the heartless wretch who had deposited the infant on his doorstep.

His top boots scuttled up and down the street, through yards and barn lots for an hour, but despite the fact that he carried his dark lantern and trailed like an Indian bloodhound, he found no trace of the wanton visitor.