“What will you do with him, daddy?”

“Keep him here for a while and patch him up.  I must find out why he tried to shoot us, and if there are others in the plot, I know the villain is very revengeful, and that may have been his sole purpose for following us to-day.  How did Sconda know about him, Glen?”

“He saw him hurrying along this side of the lake shortly after you had disappeared beyond the wild meadow.  I thought it best for Sconda to go.”

“And mighty fortunate you did.  Why, the villain would have shot us all if Sconda hadn’t been on hand.”

“Do you intend to stay here a while, daddy?”

“Long enough to look after my patient.  But you must go home, and Natsu will go with you.  Reynolds has to hurry down to Big Draw to record our claims.”

“And so you found the gold?” Glen eagerly asked.

“I should say we did.  Why, that cave is full of it.  We shall be as rich as Croesus in a short time.”

“Oh, I am so glad,” and the girl gave a sigh of relief.  “When we get the gold why cannot we leave this country, daddy, and go outside?  I want to travel and see the world, and enjoy life.  There, now, I know you will either scold or laugh at me.  But I mean every word I say.”

“I shall do neither, dear,” was the quiet reply, “so you need not fear.  I have known for some time that you wish to leave this country, and I have given it very serious consideration.  But you must wait a while, that is, for a few days at least.  It all depends upon something about which I do not care to speak now, as I must have more time to think it over.”

Weston rose suddenly from the table and went into the kitchen.  Glen and Reynolds looked at each other without a word.  They were both surprised at Weston’s words and the abrupt manner in which he left them.  Moved by the same impulse, they, too, rose from the table and went out of doors.  It was a beautiful evening, and the sky beyond the mountain peaks was aglow with the lingering light of departing day.  The lake lay like a mirror, its borders black with the shadows of the near-by trees.

At the kitchen window Weston stood wrapped in thought.  Forgotten was the man lying in the bunk, for his mind was upon the two slowly wending their way to the lake.  The room seemed to stifle him, so he went to the door and stood there, silent and alone.  He was fighting the hardest battle of his life, much harder, in fact, than the one he had fought in his study the night he had first interviewed Reynolds.  He knew that he was at the parting of the ways.  That Glen had given her heart to the young stranger he was certain, and he believed that she would never be happy apart from him.  They would leave the northland, and should he remain?  That was the question which was now agitating his mind.  How could he live alone without Glen’s inspiring presence?  There was no one to take her place,