Glen of the High North

by H. A. Cody

"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 like to see," he at length replied, touching his breast with his hand. "But perhaps we had better go inside, as it is getting dark out here."

"When once within the cabin, Reynolds brought forth his two medals and laid them upon the table. Eagerly Glen picked up one, and examined it by the light of the shaded lamp.

"'For Distinguished Conduct on the Field,'" she read. "Oh, isn't it great! I knew that you had done something wonderful," and she turned her sparkling eyes to her lover's face. "What is the other one for, daddy?" she asked, for her father was examining it intently.

"This is 'For Bravery on the Field,'" Weston read. "Allow me to congratulate you, young man," and he grasped Reynolds by the hand. "I am so thankful now that I did not submit such a man as you to the Ordeal."

Reynolds smiled, although, he was considerably confused.

"You reserved it for this moment, I suppose," he replied. "This is somewhat of an ordeal to me."

"Then, let me increase your agony," and Glen's eyes twinkled as she, too, held out her hand.

Reynolds took her firm, brown hand in his, and held it tight. He found it difficult to control himself. How he longed to stoop, clasp her in his arms, and take his toll from those smiling lips. That would have been the best congratulation of all. He merely bowed, however, and remained silent. His heart was beating rapidly, and his bronzed face was flushed.