s, and found in him a companion after
his own heart. Her cares had been suddenly lifted, for in the presence
of the two men she loved her fears and forebodings were forgotten.

After supper they sat for a while in front of the cabin. The men
smoked and chatted. It was a perfect night, and not at all dark, for a
young moon was riding over the hills. Not a ripple ruffled the surface
of the lake, and the great forest lay silent and mysterious around.
Weston told several stories of his experiences in the wilderness,
especially of his encounter with a grizzly.

"I am very proud of the final shot which brought the brute down," he
said in conclusion. "I wish you both could have seen it."

"I do not believe it was any finer than the one which brought my
grizzly down," Glen challenged. "You should have seen that, daddy. It
was wonderful!"

"Where did you learn to shoot so well?" Weston asked, turning to
Reynolds.

"Over in France. I was a sharpshooter for a while."

"Well, that is interesting," and Weston blew a cloud of smoke into the
air, while his eyes wandered off across the lake. "Had some lively
experiences, I suppose?"

"Yes, at times. But, then, no more than others. All did their share,
and did it the best they could."

"Did you get anything; that is, were you wounded?"

"I have a number of scars; that's all," was the modest reply.

"And were you decorated? Did you receive a medal?" Glen eagerly
enquired. She had often wished to ask that question, but had hitherto
hesitated. She had fondly dreamed that her lover was a hero of more
than ordinary metal, and had carried off special honors. But he was so
reserved about what he had done that never until the present moment had
she found courage to voice the question.

Reynolds did not at once reply. It was not his nature to make a
display of his accomplishments. He thought of the two medals securely
fastened in his pocket. They were the only treasures he had brought
with him. All else he had left behind. But he could not part with the
medals which meant so much to him. He had not brought them for
exhibition, but for encouragement in times of depression and trouble.
In his terrible wanderings in the wilderness he had thought of them,
and had been inspired. But why should he not show them now? he asked
himself. It would please Glen, he was sure, and the medals would tell
her father that he was no coward.

"I have something which you might li