Scene. _Freda Moloofs cabin. It is eleven forty-five at night. The room is large, and luxuriously furnished. Its walls are of logs stuffed between with brown moss. Doors of rough, unstained pine boards, also window-frames and sashes. Street door to rear, in centre. On either side of door is an ordinary, small-paned window. To left of door a plain chair. On rear wall, near door, are wooden pegs, from which hang cloaks, wraps, furs, etc., also wisp-brooms for brushing snow from moccasins._ _The luxury of furnishing is of the solid order. No gim-cracks, no bric-a-brac. Furniture is rough, made in the Klondike. Tables, chairs, etc., are unpolished; they are made from pine lumber, are unstained, rough, massive. There is no carpet. Bearskins, etc., litter the floor. Strange juxtaposition of rough pine furniture, costly rugs, etc.; and, strangest of all, a grand piano. The cheapest and simplest and ugliest of kerosene lamps are used for lighting purposes, also candles. On walls are magnificent moose-horns and other appropriate trophies and weapons of the Northland _(such as great ivory-headed spears and a pair of tusks of the mammoth)_; but there are no framed paintings._ _Midway between front and rear, and midway between centre and right, a large, wood-burning stove. Beside it a woodbox. On stove a tea-kettle is simmering. To left of stove, and near it, table, with table-cover on it, a few books and magazines, and a cheap kerosene lamp; around table several pine chairs. Between table and stove two easy chairs of rough pine, massive, thrown over with furs. On right, at front, against wall, a large, comfortable lounging-couch with many cushions. On left, at front, a grand piano. On piano a small, gilt French clock is ticking._ _The room is luxurious, comfortable, picturesque, emphasizing the contact of civilization and the wilderness. In short, it is the best possible living apartment that money can purchase in the Klondike._ _A Maid is in easy chair, reading magazine and yawning. Door opens on right. Indian enters with armful of firewood, which he carries to stove and dumps in woodbox. He proceeds to put several sticks of wood into stave and to adjust damper. His entrance arouses Maid, who looks up, yawns, lays magazine face-down on lap, yawns again, at same time stretching arms behind head, and glances at clock. It is quite a distance to clock. She rubs eyes and looks again._ MAID Ten minutes to twelve. _(Yawns.)_ INDIAN What time come? MAID _(Shaking head.)_ I don't know. _(Yawning.)_ I never know. INDIAN Me go to bed. MAID You'd better not. She said we were to stay up. INDIAN What for? Much trouble you think? What she do? Where she go? MAID _(Yawning.)_ How should I know? INDIAN Sitka Charley take dogs. Sitka Charley big hurry. What for? MAID _(Listening.)_ There she comes now.