"And each time you have left the valley you have gone no farther than Parkin Crossing?" he asked mildly, his spirits rising.
"And is not that far enough?" replied the master, frowning. "It is a ride between dawn and dark."
"What is that in miles?"
"A hundred and thirty miles," said David, "or thereabout."
Connor closed his eyes twice and then: "You rode that distance between dawn and dark?"
"Yes."
"Over these mountains most of the way?" he continued gently.
"About half the distance," answered David.
"And how long"—queried Connor hoarsely—"how long before your horse was able to make the trip back after you had ridden a hundred and thirty miles in twelve hours?"
"The next day," said David, "I always return."