and he was getting well along in years.  He thought of her who had meant so much to him in the sweet days of old.  What agony had wrung his soul when she was taken from him, and how his whole life had been changed.  A slight groan escaped the lips of the unhappy man, and mechanically he reached out his hands into the night.  At once there flashed into his mind the words Glen and Reynolds had sung together at Glen West: 

  “’Tis a tale that is truer and older
  Than any the sagas tell. 
  I loved you in life too little—­
  I love you in death too well.”

The sound of happy laughter from the shore fell upon his ears.  He started and looked down toward the shore.  He could dimly see the two standing near the water close to each other, and intuitively he knew its meaning.  They had forgotten him and everything else.  They were sufficient to each other, and all cares for the time had vanished.  Weston knew that the old, old tale was being repeated by the shore of that inland lake, and that two young hearts were responding to the sweet, luring charm of that divine influence, which banishes all grief and care, and transfigures life with the halo of romance.

CHAPTER XXVI

THROUGH THE STORM

Next morning Reynolds started with Sconda for Big Draw.  As he mounted his horse in front of the cabin, Glen stood nearby, and he thought that he had never seen her look so pretty.  If any man had ever been tempted to express all that was in his mind he had been the previous evening as they stood by the shore of the lake.  He believed that Glen loved him, and he up-braided himself for not speaking and telling her of the deep feeling of his heart.  But he would return, and then he would not let such another opportunity pass.

Glen stroked the horse’s proudly-arching neck as he champed impatiently at his bit.

“Take care of your master, Pedro,” she ordered, “and bring him safely back to Glen West.”

“Then you wish me to return, eh?” Reynolds queried.

“Why shouldn’t you?” and the girl blushed.  “You have to arrange about that gold, you know.”

“So I have.  I am glad you reminded me.”  They both laughed, and Reynolds looked longingly into Glen’s eyes.  “You must promise, though, that the Indians will not drive me beyond the pass, and that your father will not subject me to the Ordeal.”

“I think I can answer for them,” was the low reply.  “You are one of us now, and that makes a great difference.  But here comes daddy; he will scold me for delaying you.”

“I wish I did not have to go,” Reynolds declared.  “I would much rather go with you to Glen West.  But I shall hurry back.”

“And be careful of yourself at Big Draw,” the girl warned.  “Curly is there, and he hasn’t any love for you.”

“Oh, I guess I shall be able to match that villain, so do not worry.  Good-by; I must be off, for Sconda is getting impatient.”