Part 44 (2/2)

Reynolds had listened to every word and he could not tolerate the least delay. A startling thought had come suddenly into his mind which stirred him to a high pitch of excitement.

”Go on,” he ordered. ”Finish your story.”

Samson aroused from his reverie, and looked keenly into the young man's eager eyes.

”Whar was I?” he asked. ”Oh, yes, I remember. It was jist whar Redmond had settled down among the Injuns. Me mind was wanderin' a bit, due, no doubt, to old age. Well, Redmond tried to find peace an'

contentment in the little village. From the loopholes of retreat he did watch the ways of civilization, an' the more he watched, the more dissatisfied he became. He longed fer the companions.h.i.+p of people of his own kind, fer between him an' the Injuns thar was too wide a gap.

He needed the company of white people, an' that he did not have. He did not care to visit the outside world fer fear of bein' recognized.

Then something happened which made a great change.”

”What was it?” Glen eagerly asked, for she, too, was intensely interested.

”It was the discovery of gold in the very region whar Redmond thought he was secure from all contact with civilized life. The miners flocked into the place, pokin' their noses into every hole an' corner, until Redmond found it necessary to keep them at arm's length an' at the same time strike terror into their hearts, that he might protect his Injuns from their evil influence.”

”Why, that's just like daddy,” Glen remarked. ”He won't allow the miners to come to Glen West.”

”Sure, sure. Any man would have done the same as Redmond did. Thar was nuthin' else fer him to do. But after the miners came, he had a great longin' to meet 'em, an' talk to 'em in a friendly way. At first he didn't know how to manage this without bein' found out. But by a lucky chance he came across an old Injun, who had once been a great medicine-man, an' was a mighty good hand at makin' disguises. So he fixed up Redmond in sich a way that no one could tell but what he was a real old sourdough prospector who had spent most of his life lookin'

fer gold.”

A half suppressed exclamation from Reynolds caused Samson to turn quickly in his direction.

”Hey, anything wrong?” he asked. ”Ye seem to be somewhat excited.

Nuthin' serious, I hope?”

”Yes, there is,” was the emphatic reply. ”But go on. Never mind me.”

”I s'pose I might as well git along with me yarn,” the old man continued. ”Yes, Redmond got all fixed up as a prospector, an' then he visited the minin' camps fer miles around. No one suspected who he was, an' so he used to come an' go in a most mysterious manner, to their way of thinkin'.”

”What did he call himself?” Reynolds asked.

”I'll come to that later, young man,” and Samson slyly tipped him a warning wink. ”We'll jist call him Redmond fer the present. He sartinly did have a great time of it, an' no one was the wiser. An' he uster travel to the outside, too, an' everybody put him down as an old prospector hardly worth considering Say, it was great fun fer Redmond.”

”But where was his child all this time?” Reynolds questioned.

”Oh, she jist stayed at home with a housekeeper Redmond got, an' grew up to be a fine slip of a gal. Then when she was old enough, her dad decided to send her outside to school. But when she came home fer the holidays she was somewhat unsettled, an' didn't want to stay in the north. She longed fer society, fine dresses, an' sich things. This worried her dad a great deal. But one day she happened to come across a chap who took her fancy, an' that made all the difference in the world. He saved her from a grizzly on Crooked----”

Samson never finished the sentence, for with a startled cry, Glen was on her feet, her body trembling with emotion, and her eyes wide with wonder.

”Are you Henry Redmond?” she demanded. ”Are you my father?”

For an instant only did the old man look at the girl, then with a swift, deft movement he swept the long beard from his face, and the white hair from his head.

”Daddy!” It was all that Glen could say. She trembled, and would have fallen had not her father caught her in his arms, and held her close to his breast. For a time no one spoke, and Glen's sobs were the only sound heard.

”There, there, dear, don't feel so badly,” her father at length told her. ”Come, let me brush away your tears. One would think that I had committed some terrible deed.”

”But I can't help it, daddy,” the girl replied. ”This is all so sudden, and such a great surprise. But I feel better now, so we can talk it all over. There are so many questions I want to ask.”

The storm had now pa.s.sed, and once more they resumed their seats.

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