Page:The trail of the golden horn.djvu/57

Rh was left alone with her father. He was watching her somewhat curiously, his cap pulled well down over his ears. The light from the little window in the south side of the building made it possible for her to see him quite plainly. What should she say? Did he have any idea who she was? Should she warn him of his danger? Would that be fair to North? And yet he was her father, even though he had deserted her and her mother for so long.

And while she thus stood in doubt there came into her mind his loving care when she was but a child. How he had played with her, fondled her, and she had always looked forward to his coming home at night. It all rushed upon her now in a moment. Forgotten was everything else. What would her mother say if she did not stand by him in his time of need?

And all the while Hugo was watching her. What was there in her face that caused that peculiar expression to appear in his eyes? Why did he at length step quickly forward and lay his right hand upon her arm.

“Take off your hood,” he ordered in a voice filled with emotion.

As Marion at once obeyed, he looked upon her tossed hair, and again studied her face most intently. He seemed like a man trying to recall something which he had long since forgotten. Marion noted this and her heart beat wildly. The pathetic expression upon his face moved her deeply. She could endure the strain no longer. Hugo had turned away, and was about to go over to the little stove.

“Father! Father!” she cried, “don’t you know me? I am Marion, your own daughter.”

With a roar the trapper wheeled and again faced the girl. The doubt was now gone from his face, and in