“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 passed, and once more they resumed their seats.  Glen, however, kept her eyes fixed intently upon her father’s face.

“And to think that you have deceived me all these years,” she upbraided.  “Don’t you feel thoroughly ashamed of yourself?”

“I suppose I should,” was the laughing confession.  “But I have had so much innocent fun out of it that my conscience doesn’t trouble me in the least.”

“And it was you all the time who travelled on the same steamer as I did,” Glen mused.  “I thought it strange that you should be going up or down the coast whenever I did.”