"You'd better thank the Almighty," returned Milton. "I certainly had
very little to do with our getting here."
The rain had prevented Agnew's recognizing their haven until they were
fairly upon it. Even now all that Enoch could see was a wide lateral
canyon with a rough unpainted shack above the waterline. A group of
cottonwoods loomed dimly through the mist beside a fence that
surrounded the house.
Jonas, who had seemed overcome with joy at Agnew's announcement,
recovered his power of speech by the time the boat was headed shoreward
and he raised a shout that echoed from wall to wall.
"Na-che! Ohee, Na-che! Here we are, Na-che!"
Agnew opened his lips to comment, but before he uttered the first
syllable there rose a shrill, clear call from the mists.
"Jonas! Ohee, Jonas!"
Enoch's pulse leaped. With sudden strength, he bent to his oars, and
the Ida slid softly upon the sandy shore. As she did so, two figures
came running through the rain.
"Diana!" cried Enoch, making no attempt for a moment to step from the
boat.
"Oh, what has happened!" exclaimed Diana, putting a hand under Milton's
head as he struggled to raise it.
"Just a broken leg, Miss Allen," he said, his parched lips parting in a
smile.
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