The man had been among men the terror of the hills for years, but on the last words that passed his gray lips his soul must have swung upward toward the soul of the Man who lived and died for the peace of those hills. "Doc," he said thickly, "you jus' tell the old girl Jim says: 'Happy Christmas!'" The surgeon started back at the grim cheer of that message, but he took it like a priest and carried it back through the little hell that flared down the ravine on Jim now through the window. And like a priest he told it to but one living soul. THE ANGEL FROM VIPER He had violet eyes, the smile of a seraph, and a halo of yellow hair, and he came from Viper, which is a creek many, many hills away from Happy Valley. He came on foot and alone to St. Hilda, who said sadly that she had no room for him. But she sighed helplessly when the Angel smiled--and made room for him. To the teachers he became Willie--to his equals he was Bill. In a few weeks he got homesick and, without a word, disappeared. A fortnight later he turned up again with a little brother, and again he smiled at St. Hilda. "Jeems Henery hyeh," he said, "'lowed as how _he'd_ come along"--and James Henry got a home. Jeems was eight, and the Angel, who was ten, was brother and father to him. He saw to it that Jeems Henery worked and worked hard and that he behaved himself, so that his concern for the dull, serious little chap touched St. Hilda deeply. That concern seemed, indeed, sacrificial--and was. When spring breathed on the hills the Angel got restless. He was homesick again and must go to see his mother. "But, Willie," said St. Hilda, "you told me your mother died two years ago." "She come _might' nigh_ dyin'," said the Angel. "That's what I said." St. Hilda reasoned with him to no avail, and because she knew he would go anyhow gave him permission. "Miss Hildy, I'm a-leavin' Jeems Henery with ye now, an' I reckon I oughter tell you somethin'." "Yes, Willie," answered St. Hilda absently. [Illustration] "Miss Hildy, Jeems Henery is the bigges' liar on Viper." "Yes," repeated St. Hilda; "_what_?" "The truth ain't in Jeems Henery," the Angel went on placidly. "You can't lam' it inter 'im an' tain't no use to try. You jus' watch him close while I'm gone." "I will." Half an hour later the Angel put his hand gently on St. Hilda's knee, and his violet eyes were troubled. "Miss Hildy," he said solemnly, "Jeems Henery is the cussin'est boy on Viper. I reckon Jeems Henery is the cussin'est boy in the world. You've got to watch him while I'm gone, or no tellin' whut he _will_ larn them young uns o' yours." "All right. I'll do the best I can."