much more than a
living, and we have many times gone hungry, while he was storing up
treasures year by year, to be lavished upon his one other daughter, who
married to please him. But we'd rather died there in the bush than ask a
favor of him, my dad was that proud, and hated Alexander Gregory so for
his injustice.

"You understand now what I risked in coming back here; but when I
reasoned it all out in cold blood I saw that he could not keep me
against my will, for he's never been appointed my guardian that I know
of; so I determined to come, and stick with you, no matter what
happened."

"You mentioned another daughter--is she with him still?" asked Cuthbert,
who had a reason for the question.

"No, I understand that she was also taken away several years ago; her
husband turned out to be a bad man, and had to get out of the country,
because Mr. Gregory had sworn to shoot him on sight for good reasons.
So, you see, that stubborn will of his, that wanted to bend everything
his way, has not brought him very much of happiness. Still, it's just
what he deserves, and I'm not sorry one bit."

"Did the other daughter have any children?" pursued Cuthbert.

"I don't know; but what makes you ask?" said Owen, raising his eyes
quickly, to look his comrade in the face.

"Because, unless I am very much mistaken, I heard a girl's laugh in that
big cabin where he has his home, a merry laugh that somehow made me feel
as if I wanted to join in with a ha-ha of my own. If that is so she's
your cousin, Owen."

That was indeed a master stroke on Cuthbert's part, and well played,
too.

Owen looked startled.

"Cousin--a girl--related to me," he muttered, as if unable to quite
grasp the immensity of the thing; then a flush crept over his swarthy
face, as though the new thought was more or less pleasing to him; for,
poor lad, he had of late believed himself to be utterly alone in the big
world, saving this hard-hearted grandfather, whom he refused to
recognize.

This gave him new food for reflection; and the young philosopher who had
shot the shaft fancied that the intelligence might have more or less
influence in determining his future relations with the factor--the human
heart craves sympathy above all things, and this can seldom come so well
from strangers as from those of the same family--blood is ever thicker
than water.

Owen went about the preparations for the night, arranging the cots for
his two comrades, and his own hu