Part 39 (1/2)

Now, isn't that true?”

Glen rose suddenly to her feet, and threw her arms lovingly about Nannie's neck. There were tears in her eyes, but they were tears of joy.

”You dear, dear old Nannie!” she cried. ”How in the world did you learn the secret of my heart?”

”How could I help it?” was the laughing reply. ”Your face alone would have betrayed the secret, even if I had not guessed it. And the Prince really loves you, Glen. But, there, I suppose he has told you all this.”

”Indeed he has not. He never said a word to me,” was the emphatic denial. ”I don't believe he ever thought of doing so.”

Nannie merely smiled at the girl's charming candour and unaffected simplicity. It pleased her to know that Glen was not ashamed of her love, and it was good to watch her bubbling over with the happiness of her new-found joy.

Glen spent much of the next morning upon the water in her canoe. She visited the places where she and Reynolds had gone that first day they had been together. She lived over again that happy time, marred only by the shot from the Golden Crest. She had almost forgotten it now, and her former anxiety had nearly vanished. She had a slight feeling of fear as to what Curly might attempt to do to Reynolds at Big Draw, but when she thought of her lover's strength she smiled confidently to herself.

About the middle of the afternoon she decided to go down to see Klota.

Telling Nannie that she would not be long, she donned her hat, and had just stepped out upon the verandah when she saw Sconda riding furiously toward the house. His horse was white with foam and panting heavily.

For an instant Glen's heart almost stopped beating, as she was certain that the Indian bore some bad news. He had gone with Reynolds, and what would bring him back so soon and in such a manner unless something was seriously wrong? All this flashed through her mind as she hurried down the steps just as Sconda drew rein in front of the house.

”What is the matter, Sconda?” she demanded. ”Tell me, quick.”

”White stranger in trouble,” was the brief reply.

”Where?” Glen asked, while her face turned pale.

”At white man's camp. Curly catch him. Curly make big trouble.”

”Are you sure? Did Mr. Reynolds send you here for help?”

”White stranger did not send Sconda. t.i.tsla tell Sconda at foot of Crooked Trail.”

”Oh, I see,” Glen mused. ”t.i.tsla was at Big Draw with meat for the miners, and he found out that Curly was planning to harm Mr. Reynolds, eh?”

”Ah, ah, t.i.tsla come quick. t.i.tsla tell Sconda.”

”And you rode fast to tell me?”

”Sconda come like the wind. Look,” and he motioned to his weary horse.

Glen was thoroughly aroused now. She was no longer the happy, free-from-care girl who had emerged from the house a few minutes before, but a woman stirred to a high pitch of anger, the same as when she faced Curly in front of the cabin by the lake. Her father's spirit possessed her now, and when Glen Weston's eyes flashed as they did when she was aware of her lover's danger, those best acquainted with her knew that she was capable of almost any deed of heroism. Of a gentle, loving disposition, and true as steel to those who were true to her, there was hidden within her something of the primitive life of the wild, which, when stirred resembled the rus.h.i.+ng tempests of her familiar mountains.

Turning to Sconda she gave a few terse orders, and when the Indian had received them, he wheeled his horse and headed him for the village.

Glen at once hurried back into the house, went to her own room, and in a short time reappeared, clad in her riding-suit. She met Nannie at the foot of the stairs, and briefly explained the object of her mission.

”But surely you are not going to Big Draw!” the woman exclaimed in dismay. ”What will your father say?”

”Yes, I am going,” was the decided reply. ”What would daddy say if I s.h.i.+rked my duty?”

”But you are not going alone!”

”No. I have given Sconda orders to get twenty of the best men in the village to accompany me. We shall go by way of Crooked Trail, and should reach Big Draw by night. G.o.d grant we may be in time!”