What the Dickens?


Where Chance O’Gregory was sneaking off to each evening, I had to find out, and so I pretended to be asleep when he slipped from our cabin and started up the hillside towards our claim. My colleague had the same idea as he rolled from his cot, fully dressed as well.

Quietly, we followed O’Gregory into the darkness, unsure where he might lead us.

At the mouth of our mine, we saw a light glowing. We became suspicious and prepared to take action.

Once inside the tunnel, we found Chance seated at a table with three others. He didn’t seem abashed at all as we approached.

“Meet my new poker-playing friends,” O’Gregory smiled. “That’s Christmas Past, he’s Christmas Future, and this is Christmas Present.”

Each stood to shake our hand.

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