And Dave's tardy words followed immediately with characteristic sincerity.
"Thanks, Bob," he said, in his deep tones.
"It's all right, boss, they're working by flare to-night, an' they're going on till ten o'clock."
Dave nodded. His thoughts had once more turned into the smooth channel of his affairs. Betty was serving out supper.
A few moments later, weary and depressed, the parson came in for his supper. His report was much the same as usual. Progress—all his patients were progressing, but it was slow work, for the recent battle had added to the number of his patients.
There was very little talk until supper was over. Then it began as Mason was preparing to depart again to his work. Dave spoke of his decision without any preamble.
"Say, folks, I'm going back to Malkern to-night," he said, with a smiling glance of humor at his friends in anticipation of the storm of protest he knew his announcement would bring upon himself.
Mason was on his feet in an instant.
"You can't do it, boss!" he exclaimed. "You——"
"No you don't, Dave, old friend," broke in Chepstow, with a shake of his head. "You'll stay right here till I say 'go.'"