Although a steep hill, curves and windings made the ascent easy as well as picturesque, and before they were halfway up, the treetops were below them and their view of the road was cut off.
The house, as they neared it, looked as usual, except that one or two trunks and a large suitcase were on the front veranda.
Hearing voices, Jim Pennington himself came to the open front door. He was in his shirt sleeves, but made no apologies.
“How are you?” he said, to Rodney, holding out his hand, and afterward greeting Collins. “I’m downright glad to see you. Sit down, I’ll get you a bracer. I need one myself. Not that I’ve been working hard, my packing was easy, but—” he shrugged his shoulders and it was not hard to understand that the nerve strain of leaving his home was what had wearied him.
