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CHAPTER XIV
ANOTHER PRISONER
It was morning when Reynolds opened his eyes and looked around. He believed that he had been dreaming, and a horrible dream it was. In a few minutes his senses returned, and he vividly recalled the terrible experiences through which he had recently pa.s.sed. But where was he?
What had happened to him? Why was he not yet upon the raft, drifting with the wind and tide? He glanced about the room and saw that it was a cozy place, with the sunlight streaming in through an open window on the right. He attempted to rise, but fell back wearily upon the bed.
Then he called, and the sound of his own voice startled him, so strangely hollow and unreal did it seem.
A light footstep near the door caused him to look in that direction.
An Indian woman was coming toward him, a big motherly-looking person, with a smile upon her face.
"Where am I?" Reynolds asked. "And how did I get here?"
The woman made no reply, but still smiling with apparent satisfaction, she turned and left the room. She was back again in a few minutes, this time carrying in her hand a bowl of steaming broth.
"Eat," she ordered, offering him a spoon. "No talk."
But Reynolds did not take the spoon. He was too famished for that.
Seizing the bowl with hands that trembled from weakness and excitement, he drained it to the last drop.
"More, more," he cried. "I'm starving."
Again the woman smiled as she took the bowl.
"No more now," she told him. "Sleep."
"But where am I?" Reynolds demanded. "I must know."
"Bimeby. Sleep now," was all the satisfaction he obtained, as the woman left the room and closed the door.
For several minutes Reynolds lay there uncertain, what to do. But the bed was comfortable, and he was so tired. It was good to rest, and not worry about anything. He was in friendly hands, and that was sufficient for the present.
When he again awoke, he felt much refreshed, and longed to get up. He attempted to do so, but in an instant the same Indian woman was by his side.
"No get up," she ordered, handing him another bowl of broth she had brought with her.
Reynolds drank this more leisurely, the woman watching him closely all the time.
"Thank you," he said, when he had finished. "I feel better now. But please tell me where I am, and how I came----"
The words died upon his lips, for in the doorway Glen had suddenly appeared. She looked at him, and with a bright smile upon her face, came to his side. So surprised was Reynolds that he was unable to utter a word. He merely stared, so great was his astonishment.
"I hope I have not startled you," the girl began. "You look frightened."
"But where have you come from?" Reynolds asked, not yet sure that he was in his right mind.
"From the other room, of course," and again Glen smiled. "You need not look at me that way for I am no ghost. I do not feel like one, anyway."
Reynolds gave a sigh of relief, and a thrill of joy swept over him. It was almost too good to be true. He had found the girl at last!
"Are you feeling better now?" Glen asked.
Reynolds put his hand to his face, and glanced at the rags upon his body.
"I am not sure," he doubtfully replied. "But perhaps I shall when this beard is removed and I get some decent clothes. I must be a fearful looking object."
"I have seen you look better. But, then, you need not worry, Klota will attend to you presently."
"And you know who I am?" Reynolds eagerly asked.
"Certainly. You are my brave rescuer. You saved me from the grizzly on Crooked Trail, didn't you?"
"I know I did, but I am surprised that you recognize me in my present condition."
"Oh, I knew you as soon as you were taken off the raft."
"You did! And so it was you who saved me?"
"I had something to do with it, though not all. But won't you tell me what happened to you? Why were you adrift on the lake?"
"I can not tell you now," Reynolds replied. "I want to forget the terrible experiences through which I have just pa.s.sed. I hope you do not mind."
"No, certainly not. I am only curious, that's all. When you get well you can tell me everything. I shall leave you now, for you must be tired."
"Don't go yet," Reynolds pleaded. "It is so nice to have you here, and talking does not tire me. Do you mind telling me where I am?"
"Why, at Glen West, of course. Where did you think you are?"
"Glen West," Reynolds repeated. "I cannot recall that name. Is it far from Big Draw?"
"Too far for anyone but you," and the girl smiled. "You are beyond the Golden Crest, remember, and you have heard what that means."
"I am! Why, I thought one could only get here by crossing the range."
"But you came by water; that is the only other way. And it is lucky for you that you did," she added after a slight pause.
"You mean that my life would be in danger had I come over Golden Crest?"
"Most likely."
"And am I safe now?"
The sunny expression vanished from Glen's eyes, and her face became serious. She gazed out of the window, as if watching several Indian children at play. To Reynolds she had never seemed more beautiful, and he could hardly believe it possible that she was standing there but a few feet away. She turned her face suddenly to his, and the look of admiration in his eyes brought a deep flush to her cheeks.
"Pardon me for not answering your question at once," she began. "I am afraid you are not safe, as you are on forbidden ground, though the fact that you were brought here in a helpless condition may make a difference. But, then, one can never tell what daddy will think about it."