I had hoped to reach Culverton by noon, but by noon I had accomplished scarcely two- thirds of the distance, and every moment the difficulties of the way were increasing.

My horse trudged on gallantly.

The trot had long since given place to a walk, and the walk in turn often became a sheer struggle for progress through the drifts and obstacles of the uncertain road.
"As for me, I was nearly frozen in my saddle, and more than once was compelled to dismount and tramp along beside my horse in the deep snow in order to keep the blood going in my veins.

And all the while the thought of my father lying there at Culverton, neglected perhaps, with no son at hand to tend him, drove me nearly frantic.
"The afternoon dragged on, and towards dark the snow ceased to fall.
That was at least some comfort, for to battle through that storm in the dark would have been an impossibility.

As it was, my good horse was even now ready to drop, and I was in little better plight.