“It certainly is,” was the reply.  “A grizzly?”

“Ah, ha.  You shoot um, eh?”

“Why, that’s not the one I shot on Crooked Trail, is it?” Reynolds asked in astonishment.

“Ah, ah.  All sam’ bear.  Skin dry bimeby.”

“What are you going to do with it?  Will you let me have it?”

Sconda shook his head as he again felt the skin.

“Missie Glen get skin bimeby.”

“Is it for her?”

“Ah, ah.  She want skin.  She send Injuns to Deep Gulch.  She tell Sconda make good skin.  Bimeby Missie Glen put skin in room, all sam’ dis,” and Sconda stooped and spread his hands over the ground.

Reynolds understood, and his heart bounded with joy.  So Glen was going to keep the skin as a souvenir of her rescue on Crooked Trail.  Then she must care something for him after all, more than he had expected.  The thought made him happier than he had been for days, and he was grateful to Sconda for what he had told him.

That afternoon Glen came again to see him.  She was greatly pleased at the change in his appearance, and suggested that they should go for a spin upon the creek.

“I want to show you what a beautiful place Glen West really is,” she told him.  “We can take Sconda’s canoe, which is at the shore.”

Reynolds was delighted, and eagerly he agreed to the proposition.  Glen seated herself in the middle of the canoe, and the deft manner in which she handled the paddle showed that she was well accustomed to the water.  Reynolds paddled aft, and headed the light craft up the creek.

“I am anxious for you to see what a wonderful piece of water this arm of the lake is,” Glen remarked.  “I have never seen anything like it in the north, and we are all very proud of it.  Oh, if more people could only see it!”

She sighed as she drove the paddle into the water.  Reynolds was more intent upon watching the graceful poise of her body as it swayed to the rhythmic stroke of the paddle than he was in viewing the scenery.  He could hardly believe it true that she was seated there before him, and that he was privileged to watch her to his heart’s content.  He was very happy, and to him Glen West was the most delightful place in the world.

At length they came in front of the big house, and when Reynolds saw it, and also The Frontiersman lying at her wharf, his interest was intense.  He ceased paddling, and stared in amazement.

“Am I dreaming, or have I taken leave of my senses?” he asked.

Glen laughed, as she rested on her paddle, and turned partly around.

“That is where I live,” she explained.  “And that is our boat.  You were brought in on it the day we picked you up on the lake.”

Reynolds made no immediate reply, but drove his paddle suddenly into the water.  He knew that this girl had been largely instrumental in saving his life, and he was learning more and more what an important part she was playing in his life, and how one by one the links were being formed to bind them closer together.