CHAPTER XV

  JIM WESTON

  Glen's mind was greatly agitated as she made her way slowly homeward.Curly's presence was the cause of this, as she feared that her fatherwould be so angry with the villain that it would make it hard forReynolds. He might imagine that the two were in league with eachother, as they were both from Big Draw. She despised Curly, knowingwhat a vile loathsome creature he was, and she had a very fair idea whyhe had ventured across the Golden Crest. Had he not avowed hisaffection for her at the dance, and had told her that he would run anyrisk to meet her again? How glad she had been that night when Scondacame for her, and she could free herself from her unwelcome andinsistent suitor. And Curly was now a prisoner at Glen West! Sheshuddered as she recalled the look on his face when he saw her andReynolds together. And his language! She could not get the terriblewords out of her mind. The meaning of some she did not know, neverhaving heard them before, but she fully realised that they must be verybad, or else Curly would not have used them in his rage. And should henow escape, there was no telling what his revengeful spirit might leadhim to do, either to herself, or to him who was now beginning to meanso much to her.

  Thinking thus, she reached the house, and as soon as she entered sheknew that her father was at home, for the door of his private room wasopen. He was seated at his desk when he turned and saw her. Springingto his feet, he caught her in his arms, kissed her on both cheeks, andthen holding her at the full length of his powerful arms, he lookedeagerly and lovingly upon her now flushed and excited face.

  "Why, you are getting better looking every day," he declared. "Justlike your dear mother at her age. My, my, how the time has gone! andit seems but yesterday that I first met her. But, there, there, I mustnot give way to such feelings on this my first night home. Come, sitby my side and tell me all about yourself, and how things are going atGlen West."

  For the first time in her young life Glen was sorry that her father hadcome home. She was really more than sorry, for a nameless fearpossessed her heart, which restrained her usual free and happy manner.Her father's keen intuition noted this, and that her words seemedforced. Her enthusiasm over his arrival was not so hearty and naturalas formerly, and he wondered why.

  "What is the matter, dear?" he asked after Glen had somewhat haltinglytold him about her music and certain household affairs. "You do notseem like yourself. Has anything out of the ordinary happened at GlenWest since I have been away?"

  "Yes, lots of things, daddy," was the reply. "One of the mostimportant is your absence from home for such a length of time. Youshould be ashamed of yourself."

  Weston laughed, although he felt quite sure that she was evading thereal issue.

  "I am sorry, dear, and I make my humble confession now. But what elseof importance has been taking place?"

  "I was nearly eaten up by a bear on Crooked Trail, and it was a grizzlyat that."

  Glen was surprised that her father did not seem more concerned, and shetold him so.

  "You take it very coolly, daddy. Just think, you might have come homeand not found me here."

  "I am very thankful that you escaped, dear, but did I not forbid yourgoing so far alone beyond the Golden Crest? I hope your experience hastaught you a lesson. How were you saved from the grizzly?"

  "Oh, a hunter shot it just in the nick of time," Glen explained asindifferently as possible, although she knew that her cheeks wereaflame. "And, oh, daddy, you should have seen the shot he made; it waswonderful!"

  "Where was the hunter from, Glen?"

  "From Big Draw mining camp, so I understand."

  "Were you talking to him?"

  "Yes, just for a few minutes."

  "And have you seen him since?"

  Glen's eyes dropped and the flush left her cheeks. Her father notedthis, and he laid his right hand suddenly upon her arm.

  "Speak, Glen, and tell me at once whether you have seen him since."

  Something in her father's voice startled the girl, and she looked upquickly into his face.

  "Tell me," he again demanded. "What is the matter? Have you seen thatman lately?"

  "Yes, I have."

  "Where?"

  "Here."

  "At Glen West? He has been here, and you have seen him? Are you sure?"

  "I am certain. I was with him this afternoon in the canoe. But,daddy, what is the matter? Oh, don't get angry. I didn't do anythingwrong."

  Jim Weston had risen to his feet, and was looking down upon hisdaughter. He was a powerfully-built man, of more than ordinary height.The northern winter was in his thick hair and heavy moustache, whilehis steady light-blue eyes and firm, well-built chin betokened a strongwill power of unyielding determination. Glen had often expressed herunbounded admiration for her father, and believed him to be the mosthandsome man in the world. But now he seemed like an avenging god,about to visit upon her the force of his wrath. For the first time inher life she cowered before him, and hid her face in her hands.

  "And you say that your rescuer is here?" Weston at length asked. "Whendid he come, and where is he staying?"

  "We saved him from a raft out on the lake just before that fearfulstorm," Glen faintly replied. "He was almost dead, and in a minutemore he would have been drowned. Oh, it was terrible! He is now atSconda's."

  "Another miner's trick, I suppose, to get here," Weston growled. "Ithas been tried before, but with scanty success. This must be one morefool who was trying the same game."

  "He is not a fool," Glen stoutly protested, lifting her eyes defiantlyto her father's face. "Mr. Reynolds is a gentleman. He is differentfrom the rest of the miners."

  "What was he doing out on the lake?" her father asked.

  "He got lost in the hills, and nearly died. He drifted down the TasanRiver on a raft which he built. He was almost starved to death."

  "And what was he doing in the hills?"

  "Prospecting, so he told me. He was with Frontier Samson, and, goingafter a moose, lost his way."

  "H'm," Weston grunted. "A trumped-up yarn, no doubt. Don't you thinkit looks rather suspicious?"

  "It might if it were someone else. But he is different, and I believehe told me the truth."

  "Well, we shall soon find out, Glen. If he begins any of his lies orfancy tales to me, he will learn his mistake. I am not going to haveany young man wandering about this region, let me tell you that. Ithas been tried too often already, so we might as well make a specialexample of him in order to warn others. It's the 'Ordeal' for him, allright."

  At these words Glen sprang to her feet and confronted her father. Hereyes were blazing with intense emotion, and Jim Weston stared at her inamazement. A feeling of pride welled up within him at her appearanceand courage.

  "You shall not lay hands on him," Glen passionately declared. "He isan innocent man, and it would be unjust to hurt him."

  "Glen, Glen, what is the meaning of this?" her father demanded. "Youseem to be greatly interested in this fellow. I am surprised at you."

  "I am interested, daddy. Nay, I am more than interested, for I lovehim with my whole heart, so there. Don't you dare to touch him."

  The strain of this interview was telling upon Glen. As soon as thisconfession had left her lips, she was wild with regret. Why had shedone this? she asked herself, as she stood with big staring eyeswatching her father. What would he say? What would he not do to her?Her body trembled, a weakness swept upon her, and sinking down into herchair, she buried her face in her hands and sobbed as if her heartwould break.

  If Jim Weston was astonished before, he was dumbfounded now at what hisdaughter had told him. His heart went out in a great rush of pity tohis only child and he longed to take her in his arms and comfort her.But he felt that he must be firm and not give way to any feeling ofemotion at a time like this. Instead, he laid his hand somewhatheavily upon her shoulder.

  "Does this fellow, Reynolds, know of your love?" he asked.

  "No, no; h
e has not the least idea of it," was the low reply.

  "And he has not avowed his love to you? Are you sure?"

  "I am certain. He has never given the least sign that he cares for memore than if I were an ordinary acquaintance. But he is a gentlemanboth in word and action."

  For a few minutes Jim Weston stood lost in thought. It seemed to Glenas if he would never speak. The silence of the room was so intensethat she was sure her fast-beating heart could be distinctly heard.

  "I must have time to think this over, Glen," her father at lengthinformed her. "You may go now and get ready for supper. Nannie hasbeen kept waiting too long already."

  Never before had Glen heard her father speak to her in such a cold,peremptory manner. Slowly she rose to her feet and walked across theroom. Her head was aching, and she was glad to get away, anywhere inorder that she might be alone, and from her father's stern, accusingeyes.

  She had almost reached the door, when Sconda stood suddenly before her.She paused, while the Indian entered and walked at once toward hismaster.

  "Well, Sconda, what is it?" the latter demanded, annoyed at thenative's intrusion at this critical moment. "Anything wrong?"

  Weston spoke in the Indian language, with which he was most familiar.

  "Big White Chief," Sconda began, "the Golden Crest has been crossed.Another white man is here."

  "I know it," was the curt reply. "He came by water this time, so Iunderstand."

  "Not by water, Big White Chief, but through the pass, over CrookedTrail."

  "He did! Why, Glen, you told me he came by way of the lake. Have youbeen deceiving me, girl?"

  "Indeed I have not," was the emphatic and somewhat angry denial. "I amsurprised that you think I would deceive you, daddy. Sconda refers tosomeone else. It is Curly who came by the pass, and not Mr. Reynolds."

  "Curly! Curly here, did you say?" Weston almost shouted the words, andso fierce did he look that the Indian retreated a step.

  "Ah, ah, Curly here," Sconda replied.

  "When did he come?"

  "To-day. He was caught as he came through the pass. He shot, butmissed."

  "Where is he now?"

  "At Taku's."

  Weston placed his hand to his forehead in perplexity.

  "This is certainly a great home-coming," he muttered. "Troubleeverywhere, with white men entering the place by lake and pass. Look,Sconda, bring Curly here in one hour. See?"

  The Indian merely nodded.

  "And get ready for the Ordeal at once. Savvey?"

  "Ah, ah, Sconda savvey," was the reply, and with that he left the house.

  Glen went, too, without another word to her father, and hurried to herown room. It was a cozy place, fitted up with every comfort, and sheloved it dearly. But now it seemed to her like a prison. She longedto throw herself upon the bed and give vent to her feelings in a floodof tears. But she knew that her father would be expecting herdownstairs, so it was necessary to make haste.

  When at last she entered the dining-room, Weston was already there,talking with Nannie. The latter noticed Glen's pale face, but made nocomment. With her naturally keen intuition, she divined the cause ofthe trouble and discreetly said nothing.

  During the meal Weston seemed like an altogether different man, andtalked and laughed in the most animated manner. He told a number ofhis experiences in the hills, several of which were of a humorousnature. Glen tried to be interested, although she found it difficultto follow what her father was saying. He puzzled her more than ever.Why was he so stern and cruel at times, and again so bright and merry?He did not seem the least angry now at her, neither was he apparentlyconcerned about the two prisoners at Glen West.

  When supper was ended, Weston pushed back his chair and lighted a cigar.

  "My, that tastes good," he commented. "It's the first I've had in along time. Now for some music, Glen."

  Music! Glen started and looked at her father, as if she had not heardaright. What did he mean? Was he going to add further torture to herracked brain by asking her to play and sing? She had hardly spoken aword during the meal, and had barely tasted her food. This Westonnoted, and he well understood the reason. How much will she safelystand? he asked himself. He was about to repeat his suggestion, whenSconda arrived, and with him came Curly, guarded by two stalwartIndians. Glen breathed a sigh of relief at this timely interruption,and leaving the table, she fled at once to the seclusion of her ownroom.

 
H. A. Cody's Novels