"Young Herr Philip, you have helped me to get back my own. I cannot repay you."
"I am repaying you," said Phil. "You have already helped me."
After that they did not speak for a long time. The snow became lighter and lighter, then it ceased entirely. The horses were quiet in the shelter of the trees, and Phil was so snug and warm that he fell into a beautiful sleep, from which he was aroused by Arenberg.
"It iss day, Herr Philip," he said. "Look how the sun shines on the snow."
Phil drew himself out of the hole and looked at a white world, tinted silver in the early dawn.
"Yes, it is time for us to go," he said. "Wake Billy, and we'll ride."
But Billy was already awake, his small face illumined with curiosity and interest.
"Now we will ride," he said to Phil, "and see the men of whom you have told me."
They had some food left, and, after eating it to the last particle, they mounted their horses and rode with as much speed as was wise in the deep snow. Both Phil and Arenberg had an excellent idea of direction, and, guided by the sun, they rode straight toward The Silver Cup. But the snow was so deep and heavy that they were compelled to stop often to let their horses rest, and nearly a whole day passed before they saw the familiar trees and slopes that marked the approach to The Silver Cup. It was a glad sight. They were thoroughly exhausted with a day of plowing through the snow, and the horses were in the same condition. A trace of smoke marked the point at which The Dip lay.
"They're at home to callers, or at least one of them is," said Phil, "and I'll be glad to be on the inside of that hut again, with real red coals before me on a stone hearth."