But he was
glad that the night had come. Others would know him, and he did not
wish to be seen when he rode on such an errand. He had been saving his
horse in the afternoon, but now he pushed him forward at a much faster
gait. The great horse responded willingly and Dick felt the powerful
body working beneath him, smooth and tireless like a perfect machine.
He passed nobody on the road. People hugged their fires on such a cold
night, and he rode hour after hour without interruption. It was nearly
midnight when he stopped on a high hill, free of forest, and looked down
upon Pendleton. The wonderful clearness of the winter night helped him.
All the stars known to man were out, and helped to illuminate the world
with a clear but cold radiance.
Although a long distance away Dick could see Pendleton clearly. There
was no foliage on the trees now, and nearly every house was visible.
The great pulse in his throat throbbed hard as he looked. He saw the
steeples of the churches, the white pillars of the court house, and off
to one side the academy in which he and Harry Kenton had gone to school
together. He saw further away Colonel Kenton's own house on another
hill. It, too, had porticos, supported by white pillars which gleamed
in the moonlight.
Then his eyes traveled again around the half circle before him. The
place for which he was looking could not be seen. But he knew that it
would be so. It was a low house, and the evergreens about it, the pines
and cedars would hide it at any time.
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