"We travelled up the coast together on the _Northern Light_," Reynolds
explained. "I was the one who drew the captain's attention to that
canoe when the fog-bank lifted. You remember that, I suppose."

"Indeed I do, and too well at that. I wish that the fog had not lifted
just then. Your eyes were too sharp that morning."

"But the men in the canoe were not sorry, though. They seemed to be
mighty glad to be picked up."

"It is too bad that the fog lifted when it did," and the girl gave a
deep sigh.

"You know the men, then?"

"Only one, but he is enough."

"I saw you with him at the dance. I suppose he is the one you mean."

"Where is he now?" There was a note of sternness in the girl's voice.

"At Big Draw. Any message I can take to him?"

The girl's face underwent a marvellous change. It was like the sweep
of a cloud over a sunny landscape. She touched Midnight with her whip,
and he sprang forward. Down the trail he clattered at a reckless gait,
and when he had reached the level below his rider swung him sharply
around. Then he bounded upward, and when near to where Reynolds was
standing, Glen pulled him up with a sudden jerk.