They strained their eyes at each other through the icy darkness. Such a thing had never hap- pened before.
"Maybe she's forgotten it," Mattie said in a tremulous whisper; but both of them knew that it was not like Zeena to forget.
"It might have fallen off in to the snow," Mat- tie continued, after a pause during which they had stood intently listening.
"It must have been pushed off, then," he re- joined in the same tone. Another wild thought tore through him. What if tramps had been there—what if . . .
Again he listened, fancying he heard a distant sound in the house; then he felt in his pocket for a match, and kneeling down, passed its light slowly over the rough edges of snow about the doorstep.
He was still kneeling when his eyes, on a level with the lower panel of the door, caught a faint ray beneath it. Who could be stirring in that silent house? He heard a step on the stairs, and again for an instant the thought of tramps tore through him. Then the door opened and he saw his wife.
