"Did you come out in search of me?" asked Kenneth.
"We did," said Dale, "and are rejoiced to have found you so easily. Your friends have been exceedingly anxious in regard to your safety, fearing you could hardly have weathered the heavy storm of last week. How did you manage it?"
Dale and the Indian had wheeled about, and all three were ploughing their way through the snow in the direction of the town.
Kenneth answered the question as they went, with a brief account of his sojourn at the foot of the rock in the wilderness.
He said nothing of the object of his journey or whether it had been successful; but Dale's furtive yet searching glances read a fresh and bitter disappointment in the weary, haggard face, and drooping figure.
"And my friends have been anxious for my safety, you say?" Kenneth said inquiringly, and with a wistful look in his large gray eyes, thinking of a fair young face that had sometimes brightened at his coming.
"Yes," said Dale, "it has been for the last three days the most exciting theme of conversation with old and young. It's a fine thing to be a doctor, if you care to have high and low, rich and poor interested in your safety."
It was the middle of the afternoon. Mrs. and Miss Lamar plied the needle within doors while the children were engaged in winter sports without—sledding, sliding and snow-balling.
Suddenly they came tearing in, half wild with joy.
"Oh, mother and Aunt Nell, he's come! he's come!"