"No," said Kitty cheerfully, "it is feathers," and she flung back the
pile of quilts. "Poor Tony. Get up, dear, and come down and have some
supper. It is all ready, and father was wondering where you were."

Tony slipped with grateful obedience from his protection and followed
Kitty, but rather languidly, it is true, for he was very hot and
exhausted, and very rumpled, all but his sweet temper, which was quite
unruffled.

"Is Dan come back?" he asked eagerly, as he crept slowly down the
stairs.

"Dan!" cried Kitty, stopping and looking back at him anxiously.
She remembered again then that she had not seen Dan since her return.
"Did he go out?"

"Yes, he went to catch some fishes for daddy's supper. He heard you
tell Betty to have a nice one ready, and he said, 'There's sure to be
nothing nice in the house; there never is. I'll go and catch some
trout,' and he went. Do you think he was out in all that funder and
lightning?" Then, seeing Kitty's startled look, Tony grew frightened
too. "You don't fink he is hurt, do you, Kitty?" he asked anxiously.
"You don't fink Dan has been struck, do you?"

But at that moment, to their intense relief, Dan himself crossed the
hall. From his appearance he might have been actually in the stream,
getting the trout out without rod or line. Water was running off his
hat, his clothes, and his boots. Tony heard it squishing with every
step he took, and thought how splendid and manly it seemed.