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Glen of the High North

Glen of the High North

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The Project Gutenberg eBook, Glen of the High North, by H. A. Cody

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

Title: Glen of the High North

Author: H. A. Cody

Release Date: September 15, 2005 [eBook #16699]

Language: English

***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GLEN OF THE HIGH NORTH***

E-text prepared by Al Haines

GLEN OF THE HIGH NORTH

by

H. A. CODY

Author of "The Frontiersman," "The Lost Patrol,"
"The Chief of the Ranges," "The Touch of Abner," etc.

McClelland and Stewart
Publishers : : : Toronto
George H. Doran Company

1920

To

ALL TRUE MEN AND WOMEN

Of the Outer Trails of the Yukon,

Where for Years the Author Lived and Travelled,

This Book is Affectionately Dedicated.

CONTENTS

I ONE FLEETING VISION II WHEN THE FOG-BANK LIFTED III A BIG BLAZIN' LAUGH IV BEYOND THE GREAT WHITE PASS V COMRADES OP THE TRAIL VI A SHOT THAT TOLD VII BOTTLES WILL DO VIII LOVE VERSUS GOLD IX THE OUTER TRAIL X ADRIFT IN THE WILDERNESS XI INTO THE GREAT UNKNOWN XII THE GIRL OF GLEN WEST XIII WHEN THE STORM BURST XIV ANOTHER PRISONER XV JIM WESTON XVI THE ORDEAL XVII MAN TO MAN XVIII THE PREPARED ROOM XIX THE TURN OF EVENTS XX A SHOT FROM THE GOLDEN CREST XXI THE PLOTTERS XXII THE CABIN IN THE HILLS XXIII AT THE REVOLVER'S POINT XXIV WHEN THE RIFLES CRACKED XXV BY THE INLAND LAKE XXVI THROUGH THE STORM XXVII IN THE TOILS XXVIII HELP FROM THE HILLS XXIX THE OLD TRUE STORY XXX THE UNMASKING XXXI OUTWARD BOUND

  "Something lost beyond the Ranges,
    Lost; and calling to you. Go."

KIPLING

"She had grown, in her unstained seclusion, bright and pure as a first opening lilac, when it spreads its clear leaves to the sweetest dawn of May."

PERCIVAL

GLEN OF THE HIGH NORTH

CHAPTER I

ONE FLEETING VISION

It all happened in less than two minutes, and yet in that brief space of time his entire outlook upon life was changed. He saw her across the street standing upon the edge of the sidewalk facing the throng of teams and motors that were surging by. She had evidently attempted to cross, but had hurriedly retreated owing to the tremendous crush of traffic. The gleam of the large electric light nearby brought into clear relief a face of more than ordinary charm and beauty. But that which appealed so strongly to the young man was the mingled expression of surprise, fear and defiance depicted upon her countenance. It strangely affected him, and he was on the point of springing forward to offer his assistance when she suddenly disappeared, swallowed up in the great tide of humanity.

For a few minutes the young man stood perfectly still, gazing intently upon the spot where the girl had been standing, hoping to see her reappear. He could not account for the feeling that had swept upon him at the sight of that face. It was but one of the thousands he daily beheld, yet it alone stirred him to his inmost depths. A few minutes before he had been walking along the street without any definite aim in life, listless and almost cynical. But now a desire possessed him to be up and doing, to follow after the fair vision which had so unexpectedly appeared. Who could she be, and where was she going? Should he ever see her again, and if he did would he have the slightest chance of meeting and talking with her?

These thoughts occupied his mind as he continued on his way. He walked erect now, with shoulders thrown back, and with a more buoyant step than he had taken in many a day. His blood tingled and his eyes glowed with a new-found light. He felt much of the old thrill that had animated him at the beginning of the Great War, and had sent him overseas to take his part in the titanic struggle. An overmastering urge had then swept upon him, compelling him to abandon all on behalf of the mighty cause. It was his nature, and the leopard could no more change its spots than could Tom Reynolds overcome the influence of a gripping desire. Ever since childhood thought and action had always been welded in the strong clear heat of an overwhelming purpose. It had caused him considerable trouble, but at the same time it had carried him through many a difficult undertaking that had daunted other men. It was only the afterwards that affected him, the depression, when the objective had been attained. So for months after the war ended his life had seemed of no avail, and he found it impossible to settle comfortably back into the grooves of civilian life in a bustling, thriving city. Everything seemed tame and insignificant after what he had experienced overseas. Time instead of lessening had only increased this feeling, until Reynolds believed that he could no longer endure the prosaic life of the city. Such was the state of his mind when he beheld the face across the street, which in some mysterious manner gave him a sudden impulse and a new outlook upon the world. After a short quick walk, he turned into a side street and stopped at length before a building from which extended a large electric sign, bearing the words Telegram and Evening News. He entered, and at once made his way through several rooms until he reached the editorial office at the back of the building. The door was open, and seated at the desk was an elderly man, busily writing. He looked up as Reynolds appeared, and a smile illumined his face.

"You are back early, Tom. Found something special?"

"Yes," Reynolds replied as he sat down upon the only vacant chair the office contained. "But nothing for publication."

The editor pushed back his papers, swung himself around in his chair and faced the visitor.

"What is it, Tom?" he asked. "You look more animated than I have seen you for many a day. What has come over you? What is the special something you have found?"

"Myself."

"Yourself!"

"That's just it. I'm through with this job."

The editor eyed the young man curiously yet sympathetically. He was to him as a son, and he had done everything in his power to help him since his return from the war. But he was well aware that Reynolds was not happy, and that newspaper work was proving most uncongenial.

"Where are you going, Tom, and what are you going to do?" he presently asked.

"I have not the slightest idea, sir. But I must get away from this hum-drum existence. It is killing me by inches. I need adventure, life in the open, where a man can breathe freely and do as he likes."

"Haven't you done about as you like, Tom, since you came home? I promised your father on his death-bed that I would look after you, and I have tried to do so in every possible way. I

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