He did not wish to waste time, and, moreover, he had taken his resolution.

He would go near Pendleton.

It was on his most direct route, but he would pass in the night.
As the cold twilight descended he came into familiar regions.

Like all other young Kentuckians he was a great horseman, and with Harry Kenton and other lads of his age he had ridden nearly everywhere in a circuit of thirty miles around Pendleton.
It was with many a throb of the heart that he now recognized familiar scenes.

He knew the fields, the forests and the houses.