It was moonlight when the stranger returned, and handed the packages to Idy at the kitchen door.
"Pappy's asleep," she whispered, in answer to his inquiries; "he seems to be restin' easy."
"Is there no one about the place but yourself and mother, Miss Starkweather?"
Idy shook her head.
"Well, then, if you don't mind, I think I will put my horse in the barn, and sleep in the shed here, on the hay. If you should need any one in the night, you can call me. I haven't an idea but that your father will be all right, but it's a little more comfortable to have some one within call."
"Well," said Idy, dropping her hands at her sides, and looking at him in admiring bewilderment, "if you ain't just— Have you had anythin' to eat?" she broke off, with sudden hospitality.
"Oh yes, thank you; I had dinner at Elsmore," laughed the young man, backing out into the shadow. "Good-night."
Half a minute later she followed him down the walk, carrying a heavy blanket over her arm. He had led his horse to the water-trough, and the moonlight shone full upon him as he stood with one arm thrown over the glossy creature's neck.
"I brought you this here blanket, Mr.—"
"Barden," supplied the young man, carelessly.