“It must have been a trifle horrible,” he said.

Alton’s eyes closed a little.  “It wasn’t nice.  Still, there was Mrs. Jimmy working down at the store, and that secret belonged to her.”

He stopped abruptly with a little gesture as of one shaking off a painful memory, and looked down across the climbing pines to the lake in the hollow behind them.  It still shone steelily, and apparently not very far away, though it had cost the men strenuous toil all day to traverse the distance that divided them from it.  Seaforth, who watched him, noticed something unusual in his attitude, for his comrade stood very still with eyes that never for a moment wavered from one point in the valley.

“Do you see anything down there?” he said.

“Yes,” said Alton grimly.  “I see smoke.”

“There is nothing astonishing in that,” said Seaforth.  “I damped down the bark well, and raked up the soil to shut off the draught.  There was a big pile of wet green twigs, Harry.”

Alton smiled curiously.  “You made one fire?”

“Yes,” said Seaforth, wondering.  “We don’t usually make two.”

His sight was not equal to his comrade’s, but he could see a smear of blue vapour curl athwart the pines, for he had banked the fire with wet fuel, so that it should smoke all day in case Tom of Okanagan had overtaken the horse and was following their trail.

“Well,” said Alton dryly, “there is another one.”

Seaforth swept his gaze twice across the valley before he saw anything beyond the crowded pines, and then for a moment he caught sight of a second faint streak athwart their sombreness.  It was a mere film that vanished and rose again, illusory and almost imperceptible, but for some reason it troubled him.

“It might be Tom,” he said.

Alton laughed in a curious fashion.  “I don’t think it is.  One fire would be enough for Tom to make his supper with, and that one’s nearer us.”

“But,” said Seaforth, “I can scarcely see the smoke.”

Alton raised one hand impatiently.  “No,” he said.  “Whoever made that fire didn’t want you to, and there’s no need to make much smoke if you keep clear of sap and twigs.”

Seaforth’s face grew grave.  “Is there any reason why you can’t tell me a little more?  If the man would sooner we did not see it, what did he make the fire for?”

Alton smiled grimly.  “I don’t know any more, but a man must eat,” he said.  “In the meanwhile it seems to me that fellow understands his business, and I’ve a kind of notion we shall hear from him or see him presently.”

Seaforth glanced back along the blue-grey trail that led towards the bare hill shoulder, which rose a mere ridge of the great mountain side that swept round the hollow.

“There is no controverting that, and he needn’t have much difficulty in finding us if he wants to.  Is there anything to be done?” he said.