Rowland was on the back porch when they appeared before him, wet to the waist from contact with the dripping weeds and bushes through which they had made their way. He seemed not much surprised. "I thought you'd find shelter somewhere," he said, casually. "I sat up most of the night on my book. I was trying to tie the main branch of the Westleighs to our line through the Barbadoes record, and I noticed how hard it rained." "How is Tobe Keith?" the girl broke in to ask. "He is just the same--no better and no worse," Rowland answered. "That is a late report, too. I got it from Tom Gibbs, who passed along just now and stopped to let me know." "Oh, I'm glad, I'm glad he is not worse!" Mary's face beamed faintly. "I was afraid we'd get bad news. Poor Martin! He may think the worst has happened." She turned to Charles. "Will you get your breakfast now, or wait till you change your clothing?" "I don't mind the dampness," he smiled. "Is it ready?" It was on the table and he went in alone, while Mary ran up to her room. Returning half an hour later, she found that he was gone. "He was in de kitchen des now, young miss," explained Zilla, "en' he seed de basket er stuff I had fixed raidy fer de boys t' eat, en' picked it up en' said he was gwine tek it ter um." "What?" Mary asked. "You don't mean that he has gone back?" "Yassum. Mr. Brown say Martin is worried, en' he wants ter tell 'im dat Tobe Keith ain't no wuss dan he was yistiddy. I tol' Mr. Brown ter wait till you come down, but he said dar wasn't no time to lose. He said Martin looked sorter puny-like en' needed 'couragement. Yo' pa seed 'im start out, en' didn't say nothin' erginst it." It was as if Mary had something further to say, but she restrained herself. She went back to her room, ascending the stairs rapidly. Her window looked out toward the hiding-place of her brothers, and crossing a little glade beyond the barn she saw Charles, the basket on his arm. He was striding vigorously toward the forest. In a moment he was out of sight and Mary turned from the window. By her bureau she stood motionless, full of thought. Presently she heard Zilla calling to her, and, answering, she went slowly down the stairs. CHAPTER XI About noon Charles returned. Mary, at the window of the kitchen, saw him emerge from the wood back of the barn and come toward the house. There was a vague droop of weariness on him of which he seemed unaware. She met him in the front hall; his eyes fell under her stare and he flushed. "Why did you go?" she asked, reproachfully. He gave one of his characteristic shrugs and began to fumble in his coat pocket for a note which he finally handed her. "It is from Martin," he said. "They managed to keep dry last night, I understand. They were glad to get the basket. The water spoiled most of the other things and they were hungry." She read the note.