There was a gallery immediately overhead, and here the
band was placed.

For a few minutes Reynolds stood and watched the dancers in a somewhat
indifferent manner. He learned from a man standing by his side that
this building belonged to a town club, and that such dances were not
uncommon, at which most of the people attended.

At first Reynolds could not recognize anyone he knew, but as he
watched, he gave a great start, for there but a short distance away was
Glen, and her partner was none other than the rascal, Curly. He could
hardly believe his eyes, and he followed them most intently as they
moved about the room. He felt certain now that Glen was the girl
mentioned by Curly on the steamer in his conversation with Frontier
Samson. He had found her, and was it to her liking? he wondered. He
recalled her pale face and agitated manner as Curly boarded the vessel
along the coast. Was he the cause of her distress, or was it someone
else? It seemed then as if she wished to keep clear of the fellow, and
her seclusion during the remainder of the voyage lent color to this
idea. But here she was dancing with him, and apparently enjoying
herself. All this puzzled Reynolds as he stood there, unheeding
everything else save those special two.

When the music ceased, Glen and Curly walked across the room and sat
down but a short distance from the door. Reynolds could see the girl's
face most plainly now, and he could tell at a glance that she was
unhappy. Curly, on the other hand, was very animated and did all of
the talking. He was speaking in a low voice and seemed very much in
earnest. Occasionally the girl shook her head, and looked uneasily
around as if fearful lest someone should overhear what was being said.
At length, however, as she glanced to her right, her face brightened,
and the light of joy leaped into her eyes. Reynolds also turned his
head, and he was surprised to see, standing not far away, a tall and
powerfully-built Indian. Where he had come from Reynolds had not the
least idea, but there he was, clad in a soft buckskin suit, motionless,
and heeding no one except the young girl sitting by Curly's side. His
placid face relaxed a little, however, as Glen moved swiftly to where
he was standing and spoke to him in a low voice. The Indian merely
nodded in reply, and without even glancing around upon the curious
watchers in the room, he at once followed the girl as she passed out of
the building