She had left the Perkins family in such comfortable circumstances, the day before, that she was startled and dismayed to find everything in confusion. The neighbours were running in and out of the open door, the fire was out, the baby was crying, and the little mother lay on the bed prostrated. "What is it?" cried Helen, stopping in the open doorway in dismay. "Oh, what's the matter?" Mrs. Hurd and Judy Cassidy were moving helplessly about the room. At the sight of their friend the latter cried out, "Now praise the saints, here's the dear young lady. Come in, Miss Murray! Och, wurra, wurra, it's a black day for this house, indade!" Gladys was sitting on the old lounge beside the stove awkwardly holding the baby. "Oh, Miss Murray," she cried shrilly. "Somethin' awful's happened! Billy Perkins's gone to jail. He got drunk and he's been steal--" Her mother shook the broom at her. "Hold your tongue," she said sharply. For Mrs. Perkins, her face grey with suffering, had arisen on the bed. "Oh, Teacher, is that you!" she cried, bursting into fresh tears. Helen went and sat on the edge of the bed, and took her hand. "What is it?" she whispered. "Perhaps it's not so bad!" she faltered, making a vague attempt to comfort. But when the pitiful story came out it was bad enough. Mrs. Perkins told it between sobs, aided by interpolations from her neighbours. Billy had been working steadily up till last Saturday, quite happy because he could not get at the drink. But on Saturday he went into the village to buy some fresh meat from a farmer for the camp. And there was a Jericho Road up north too, it seemed, where thieves lay in wait for the unwary. And Billy fell among them. He went into the tavern just for a few minutes, leaving the meat on the sleigh outside, and when he came out it was gone. Billy had gone on towards the camp despairingly, in dread of losing his job, and praying all the way for some intervention of Providence to avert the result of his mistake. For in spite of many a fall before temptation, poor Billy, in a blind groping way, clung to the belief that there was a God watching him and caring for him. So he went on, praying desperately, and about half-way to camp there came an answer. Right by the roadside, as if dropped there by a miracle, lay a quarter of beef, sticking out of the snow. It was evidently a small cache some one had placed near the trail for a short time, and had Billy been in his normal senses he would never have touched it. But the drink was still benumbing his brain, and quickly digging out the miraculous find he loaded it upon his sleigh and hurried to camp.