"Hello, doc! are you actually here in propria persona? Well I must say this is a most agreeable ending of an intensely disagreeable day. I am glad to see you; think I was never gladder in my life!" he went on, shaking Kenneth's hand again and again; "but I wonder how you had the courage to push on in spite of such a storm. Must have had trouble in crossing some of the streams, hadn't you?"
"Yes, we had to swim our horses several times," Kenneth answered, beginning to divest himself of his wet outer garments.
"I'd have taken refuge in some hospitable farm-house till the storm was over," said Dale, helping him off with his overcoat.
"We stopped and had supper at Shirley's, and I was strongly urged to stay till morning; but really felt it impossible to sleep within five miles of Chillicothe," Clendenin said with a gayety of look and tone that struck Dale as something new in him.
"Hello! old fellow, you seem in rare good spirits," he remarked in a tone of mingled surprise and pleasure.
"I believe I am; and yet a little anxious too," Kenneth answered, his face growing grave. "How are all our friends here?"
"All flourishing at the major's," laughed Dale, with a quizzical look. "Ah ha! I believe I have an inkling of the reason why you couldn't stop short of Chillicothe. But you'll not think of making friendly calls in such weather. They'd think you crazy, man."
Clendenin's only reply was a quiet smile.
Truly he meant to be knocking at the major's door within the next half hour. What, live in suspense till another day, while within three minutes walk of her who held his fate in her hands? Impossible! 'twould take a severer tempest than the one now raging to keep him from her side.
Dale, watching him with curious scrutiny, read all this in his speaking countenance, yet was morally certain he would not enter the major's doors that night—duty would erect a more impassable barrier than the fiercest war of the elements.