More than that, she drew rein and added to his amazement by shaking her finger reproachfully at him, saying:
"Where on earth have you been keeping yourself? I have not laid eyes on you for more than a week."
Utterly confounded by this unexpected attack, Kenneth stammered: "Why, I—er—I have been very busy." Not laid eyes on him, indeed! What was her game? "Now that I come to think of it," he went on, recovering himself, "it is fully a week since I've seen you. Don't you ever come down town, Viola?"
"Every day," she said, coolly. "We just happen never to see each other, that's all. I am glad to have had this little glimpse of you, Kenneth, even though it is away out here in the woods."
There was no mistaking the underlying significance of these words. They contained the thinly veiled implication that he had followed for the purpose of spying upon her.
"Better turn around and ride back with us, Kenny," said Barry, politely but not graciously.
"I am on my way up to the Wild Cat to see a man on business," said Kenneth, lamely.
"Kenny?" repeated Viola, puckering her brow.
"Where have I heard that name before? I seem to remember—oh, as if it were a thousand years ago. Do they call you Kenny for short?"
"It grew up with me," he replied. "Ever since I can remember, my folks—"