A man a little above medium height stood on the threshold. He wore buckskin trousers and a buckskin coat over a heavy sweater, giving him a bulky appearance. He had on snow-shoes, and strapped over his shoulder, a large leather game pouch sagged. Behind smoked goggles his eyes were blinking, like Weimer's, almost closed. His head and ears were covered with a shaggy fur cap, which met his turned-up coat collar. His face was smooth above a fringe of black stubby whiskers, which ran from ear to ear under the chin. His voice, though gruff, was not unpleasant as he explained. "Of course 'twas a month and more ago since they told me over t' Red Lodge that----" His eyes fell on Ross. "You're him they call Doc Tenderfoot, ain't ye?" "Why--yes," answered Ross. There was a pause between the two words caused by the speaker's amazement at seeing a man drop in from--where? "Come in," invited Weimer, "und set down." "Don't care if I do," assented the stranger. He unbuckled his snow-shoes, and, leaving them outside, entered the shack. Turning down his coat collar, he loosened his cap, pushing it back on his head, thereby revealing the ends of short black hair. "Haf you peen up to dat tunnel, hein?" demanded Weimer with a triumphant glance at Ross. The stranger nodded, "Yep. Didn't see no signs of livin' here and I did see some signs up t' the mouth of the tunnel, but I didn't see no good way of gittin' up t' it. When I got there I was over t' other side of the dump and when I got up on top of it I heard voices down here, so down here I put agin!" "Did you come up from Miners' Camp?" asked Ross eagerly. The stranger shook his head. "No, I live toward the Divide on----" The stranger interrupted himself to ask, "Know the country over there, do you?" Weimer shook his head. "Only py hearsay." "Well, we located on Sagewood Run, my pal and me, and----" "Didn't know dere vas a soul livin' in dem parts," exclaimed Weimer. "Me and my pal," returned the stranger. "We hain't got no neighbor near enough to throw kisses to, that's sartain. You're the nighest." "Prospector?" asked Weimer. "Coal," returned the stranger. "We're tryin' to hold down half a dozen claims." He turned from Weimer, and changed the subject in his queer, abrupt way. "Pard's sick--hurt. Guess he'll pass up his checks afore long if he don't git help." He squinted through his goggles at Ross. "Over t' Red Lodge they said you fixed up a feller down in Dry Creek good's new. So I come after ye fer a couple of days." Instantly Weimer became alarmed. "Ross, he can't go und leave us, hein! When the sun pe shinin', I can't get 'round. Ross, he must pe here to work. He can't go mit you." Ross drew a long, perplexed breath, and said nothing. The stranger looked attentively at Weimer for the first time. "Got a touch of the sun, too, have ye?" he asked.