he silence of the room was so intense
that she was sure her fast-beating heart could be distinctly heard.

"I must have time to think this over, Glen," her father at length
informed her. "You may go now and get ready for supper. Nannie has
been kept waiting too long already."

Never before had Glen heard her father speak to her in such a cold,
peremptory manner. Slowly she rose to her feet and walked across the
room. Her head was aching, and she was glad to get away, anywhere in
order that she might be alone, and from her father's stern, accusing
eyes.

She had almost reached the door, when Sconda stood suddenly before her.
She paused, while the Indian entered and walked at once toward his
master.

"Well, Sconda, what is it?" the latter demanded, annoyed at the
native's intrusion at this critical moment. "Anything wrong?"

Weston spoke in the Indian language, with which he was most familiar.

"Big White Chief," Sconda began, "the Golden Crest has been crossed.
Another white man is here."

"I know it," was the curt reply. "He came by water this time, so I
understand."

"Not by water, Big White Chief, but through the pass, over Crooked
Trail."

"He did! Why, Glen, you told me he came by way of the lake. Have you
been deceiving me, girl?"

"Indeed I have not," was the emphatic and somewhat angry denial. "I am
surprised that you think I would deceive you, daddy. Sconda refers to
someone else. It is Curly who came by the pass, and not Mr. Reynolds."

"Curly! Curly here, did you say?" Weston almost shouted the words, and
so fierce did he look that the Indian retreated a step.

"Ah, ah, Curly here," Sconda replied.

"When did he come?"

"To-day. He was caught as he came through the pass. He shot, but
missed."

"Where is he now?"

"At Taku's."

Weston placed his hand to his forehead in perplexity.

"This is certainly a great home-coming," he muttered. "Trouble
everywhere, with white men entering the place by lake and pass. Look,
Sconda, bring Curly here in one hour. See?"

The Indian merely nodded.

"And get ready for the Ordeal at once. Savvey?"

"Ah, ah, Sconda savvey," was the reply, and with that he left the house.

Glen went, too, without another word to her father, and hurried to her
own room. It was a cozy place, fitted up with every comfort, and she
loved it dearly. But now it seemed to her like a prison. She longed
to throw herself upon the bed and give vent to her fee