Glen of the High North Part 43

"Where's daddy?" Glen questioned.

"Blamed if I know. He cleared out shortly after you did, and left me to die out there. I haven't seen him since."

Dan's arm was in a sling, and the haggard expression upon his face showed that he had suffered a great deal both mentally and bodily. The three watched him as he hurried on his way, until a bend in the trail hid him from view.

"An' to think of that critter bein' free!" Samson exclaimed. "Why, he should be linked up with Curly, an' git the same dose. Thar's something comin' to him, an' he'll git it in time, mark my word."

"What do you suppose has become of daddy?" Glen enquired, as they resumed their journey. "Did you hear what Dan said?"

"Oh, yer dad's all right, Miss," Samson a.s.sured her. "He knows how to take care of himself. Mebbe he's off to that mine. He's sartinly much interested in it."

"But where did you see Mr. Weston?" Reynolds unexpectedly asked.

"Whar did I see him?" and Samson ran the fingers of his right hand through his hair in an abstracted manner. "Wall, let me see. It was somewhar out in the hills. I've been in so many places that it's hard fer me to tell one from t'other. I do git terribly mixed up these days."

No further reference was made to the matter during the rest of the day, although Reynolds was not at all satisfied with the prospector's lame explanation. He wondered why the old man should have such a sudden lapse of memory as to what had so recently happened. There was some reason for it, he felt quite sure.

It was evening when they at length reached the little cabin in the wilderness. Sconda had ridden on ahead, and had an appetizing supper ready by the time the others arrived.

"I wonder where daddy can be," Glen remarked as they sat down to the table. "I was hoping that he might be here to receive us."

"Oh, he's all right, an' will be back soon," Samson replied. "He'll be here this evenin' fer sure."

The sun had just disappeared beyond the far off mountain peaks as Glen and Reynolds walked down to the sh.o.r.e of the lake. Not a ripple disturbed the water, and the sombre trees along the sh.o.r.e were mirrored in the clear depths. It was a scene of restful peace and quietness.

"Isn't it beautiful here to-night!" Glen exclaimed, while she gave a sigh of contentment. "I have no fear now of any danger lurking within those dark shadows, such as I had the last time we were here."

"And were you fearful then?" Reynolds asked.

"Indeed I was, for I thought Curly might be lurking around. He was here that day, and I do not mind confessing it now." She then briefly told of Curly's visit, and how she had guarded him until Sconda arrived.

They were walking along the sh.o.r.e now, about one hundred yards from the cabin. Reynolds was amazed at the story, and when Glen finished he suddenly stopped.

"Oh, I wish I had known of this sooner," he declared, while his hands clenched hard. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I was afraid," Glen confessed in a low voice.

"Afraid! Of what?"

"Of what you might do to Curly."

For an instant Reynolds stared at the girl. Could it be possible that she was concerned about the villain's welfare?

"And you thought I might kill him?" he asked.

"Yes; that was it."

"But he deserves to be killed after doing such a contemptible thing.

Why, it is as bad as the Huns would do, and you know what we did to them."

"But that was war," Glen reminded. "If you shot an enemy over there, you were not considered a murderer, and condemned to death, were you?"

"No, certainly not," Reynolds emphatically replied, as the meaning of the girl's words dawned upon his mind. "And so you kept silent for my sake?" he asked. "Were you afraid that I might do something desperate to Curly, and become a murderer?"

"Yes, I was," and Glen lifted her shining eyes to his.

"And you really care that much for me?"

"Why shouldn't I? Wouldn't anyone think of a friend, and his welfare?"

Only for an instant did Reynolds hesitate, while his heart beat wildly with hope. Then he caught the girl's hands in his, and looked longingly into her eyes.

"Glen, Glen!" he pa.s.sionately cried, using her Christian name for the first time, "is it possible that you love me? I wanted to tell you of my love but I was afraid."

"Why, you did tell me," Glen whispered, making no effort to free her hands.

"I did! When?"

"Don't you remember that night at Glen West when we first sang together?"

"But I didn't say a word to you about my love."

"No, but you showed it in your face and manner. You know what you did."

"I kissed you; that was it."

Releasing her hands, he drew the girl close to him, and imprinted a fervent kiss upon her burning lips.

"Glen, Glen!" he murmured. "You are mine at last. I know you love me, and are now my very own. Tell me that you love me."

In reply, Glen threw her arms around his neck, while tears of joy stole down her cheeks.

"I love you. I love you," she whispered. "Oh, I am so happy! You will never leave me, will you?"

For some time they stood there, lost to the world around them. It was the old true story being repeated by that wilderness lake. It was love made perfect by the union of two young hearts, the flowing together of two souls, the sudden bursting into bloom of the seed of affection, which had been steadily developing for weeks past.

And as they stood there, whispering of things revealed only to true ardent lovers, and their faces aglow with the light of a great and a new-found joy, the atmosphere suddenly changed. Great clouds had ma.s.sed on the mountains, and the wind was whipping down the valley, ruffling the surface of the lake. The air grew cold, and Glen shivered. Then it was that they first realised the change that had taken place, and they both laughed. But Glen's face grew instantly sober.

"What will daddy say?" she breathed. "We must tell him as soon as he comes home."

"How does he generally punish a thief?" Reynolds smilingly asked as they walked slowly back to the cabin. "I have stolen the greatest treasure he possesses, the heart of his only child."

"That remains to be seen," was the laughing reply. "He may punish you, though, by inflicting upon you for life that which you have stolen.

Won't that be punishment enough?"

CHAPTER x.x.x