“Not yet.  He has been away in the hills for some time, and we are expecting him home at any minute.”

“What do you suppose he will do with me?  I fear he will find my bones poor picking after what I have gone through.”

“Oh, daddy is not such a cannibal as all that,” Glen laughingly replied.  “But he is very jealous of this place, as others have found out to their sorrow.  I cannot understand him at times, although he is very good to me.”

“Have you lived here long?”

“Ever since I was a child.  But I am tired of it now, and want to live outside.  I was satisfied until I attended the Seminary and saw something of the world beyond the Golden Crest.  What is the use of having an education if one must always live in a place like this?”

“I agree with you,” Reynolds emphatically declared.  “You should induce your father to go outside.”

“You do not know daddy, or you would not speak about inducing him.  But, there, I must go.  I have been talking too much, and you are tired.”

Reynolds lay there thinking about Glen long after she had gone.  He had found her at last, and she was just as sweet and beautiful as the day he had rescued her on Crooked Trail.  Yes, he had found her, but was he not as far from gaining her as ever? he asked himself.  He thought about her father, and wondered what he would do when he returned home.  Perhaps he would pack him at once across the Golden Crest, if he did no worse.  But what could be worse than to be driven from her who had become so dear to him, and for whose sake he had ventured and suffered so much?

The next morning he felt almost like his former self, and when Klota brought him his breakfast, he informed her that he was going to get up.  The woman smiled, left the room, and returned when Reynolds had finished the meal, and viewed with satisfaction the empty dishes.

“Did you cook my breakfast?” Reynolds asked.

“Ah, ah,” was the reply.  “Good, eh?”

“Good!  It’s the best I’ve had in a long time.  I feel like a new man this morning, and must get up.  I wish I had a shave, a bath, and some decent clothes.  Look at these,” and he pointed to his rags.

“Come,” the woman simply ordered.  “Me fix you, all right.”

Reynolds at once got up, and followed her into the kitchen.  He was greatly surprised at the neatness of the place, as he had no idea that an Indian woman could be such a good housekeeper.  Klota noted his look of wonder, and smiled.

“Injun all sam’ white woman, eh?” she queried.

“Why, yes.  You do all this?”

“Ah, ah.  All sam’ beeg house.”

She then opened a door to the left, and pointed within.

“See.  All sam’ white woman.  All sam’ Missie Glen.  Savvey?”

Reynolds certainly did understand, and with an exclamation of surprise and delight, he entered the little room, where he found a bath-tub partly filled with water, clean towels, a suit of clothes, and a shaving-outfit.